


And Justice For All

by SunnyInOregon



Series: The Justice Series [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyInOregon/pseuds/SunnyInOregon
Summary: Dave gets entangled in the chase of a serial killer. Can Penelope help him before it is too late? And can anyone help her when she falls in love?





	1. Rogue

Dave lay on his back and stared at his bedroom ceiling as his phone rang a second time. The first ring had jerked him out of a sound sleep instinctively he had looked at his bedside clock; it was 5:15 am. He had several hours before he had to get up and go to work. He contemplated ignoring the phone as it continued to ring. On the seventh ring he gave in and picked up the receiver.

"I swear this had better be good," he growled.

"And good morning to you too," a male voice said over the line.

Dave paused not recognizing the voice.

"Who is this?" Dave asked.

The man chuckled. "I know it's been a while since we've talked and it is early but I can't believe you don't know who this is. It's me, Jack."

"Jack? Shit Jack! What the hell man its five o'clock in the morning," Dave reminded him.

"I am aware of the time," Jack chuckled. "But thanks for pointing that out. Listen, I need to talk to you in person and not at the office. I don't want anyone to know we talked. Not yet anyway."

"Oh what the hell," Dave groaned. "It's not like I was doing anything important."

"At your age you should sleep less," Jack suggested. "You don't have a lot of time left you know. You should make the most of it."

"I went to bed at 2, Jack. I am entitled to a little sleep you know."

"I know," Jack conceded. "Meet me in an hour for coffee at that place by the airport. You remember which one?"

"I remember," Dave sighed. "The one where the cute little Danish girl use to work. How is your wife by the way?"

"I'll tell you later. Get your ass moving," Jack ordered. "I'll see you in an hour."

The line went dead before Dave could reply. He hung up the phone and pulled himself out of bed to get ready.

An hour later Dave parked his SUV in front of the café that he and Jack use to frequent in their younger days. The building had been renovated but the café still had the same name and he hoped the same coffee. He could see that Jack was already inside two cups of coffee and a newspaper sat on the table in front of him.

"About time you got here," Jack complained as Dave sank onto the chair.

"It's been exactly an hour," Dave frowned as he picked up a cup and took a drink. "What the hell, you call me out here to harass me?"

"I have a favor to ask," Jack said quietly.

The café was still empty except for the two of them and the three women behind the counter. The three workers were all busy preparing for the day and not paying attention to the two older men.

Dave leaned over the table and responded just as quietly. "You got me out of bed to ask a favor?"

Jack nodded looked around the room and out the window before pushing the newspaper across the table. "Ten years ago a congressman's daughter was killed in New Hampshire. The killer was never found and the local police were told indirectly to drop the case. I received an anonymous phone call yesterday telling me that I needed to check it out. I can't do that as you know. I need you to look into it for me."

"Why all the cloak and dagger, Jack? You know you could have just come to me and asked I'm always willing to help you," Dave stated.

Jack chuckled without humor. "Because, if I am right about this, and you know I usually am, the shit is going to hit the fan as they say."

Dave sighed and sat back in his seat to stare at his friend. "So you're going to throw me to the wolves?"

"No," Jack protested. "I need this taken care of. I need this case given priority and I need it to be done no matter what. I know you. You're a tenacious bulldog, once you get your teeth into a case you don't let go until the bad guy is caught."

"I didn't come back to the FBI to get my ass kicked out," Dave countered.

"You won't," Jack replied. "I promise. No matter what happens you'll be safe."

Dave fingered the edge of the newspaper. "I'll have the team start on it first thing."

"No," Jack said shaking his head. "No team. Just you. Things are going to happen very quickly and this needs to be a one man operation. Your boss, hell your boss's bosses are going to tell you to stop. Don't do it."

Dave looked at his friend closely. The man was hunched over the table there was an air of expectancy about him. Everything cell inside of him was screaming 'walk away' but when he looked into Jack's eyes there was no way he could say no.

"I have your word," Dave asked.

"Whatever you need to do, do it." Jack nodded.

"How much time do I have?" Dave asked as he finished his coffee picked up the newspaper and stood to leave.

"As much as you need," Jack replied.

"I'll be in touch," Dave stated as he walked out the door.

Dave walked into the BAU bullpen and was surprised to find himself as the only one there then he remembered that everyone else was probably sleeping in. A crash from the break room alerted him that he wasn't as alone as he thought. He sauntered over hoping that the early morning intruder was making coffee.

"Good morning Penelope," he said with a smile to the woman who was bent over sweeping up coffee grounds.

Her startled shriek and jerk upwards caused the coffee grounds on the dustpan to go flying across the room. "Agent Rossi," she hissed. "You scared the living daylights out of me. Why are you sneaking around here?"

Dave bit his cheek in an attempt to keep from smiling as he stared at the disheveled woman.

"I thought you were a burglar," he said holding back a smirk.

"A burglar," she repeated. She had one hand on her hip and the other which was still holding the dustpan was waving around in the air her face a mask of slightly disguised disgust. "In the break room on the sixth floor of the FBI building?"

"Crazier things have happened," he said softly. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to make some coffee," she said sadly. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Shouldn't you?" he countered.

She gave him the look again. "I am on call for four BAU teams, three of which are still in the field, there is no sleeping today."

"I'm sorry," he replied all thought of humor leaving him. He stepped further into the room. "I'll make the coffee."

Her shoulders slumped. "Thanks. I'll just finish cleaning up the mess I made."

As Garcia bent over again to sweep up the coffee grounds Dave set about making a fresh pot for the both of them. He set the newspaper on the counter and started working.

"You never answered my question," Garcia said with a muffled voice.

"Which one?"

Garcia stood up and dumped the grounds into the trash container. "What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged. He continued without turning around. "I thought I'd come in and get an early start on the day."

"And scare the bejeezus out of me," she grumbled.

Dave looked at her and grinned. "That's just one of the perks!"

She waved the dustpan at him. "Don't make me hit you; I don't like violence you know!"

He laughed and put his hands up in surrender. As the coffee began brewing he picked up the newspaper and contemplated his next move. He hadn't looked at whatever it was that Jack had given him so he had no idea if it was enough information or not.

"Hey Garcia?"

"Yeah," she replied absently as she rinsed out hers and Dave's coffee cups even though they were sitting in the cupboard.

"Can you teach me what you do on the computer?"

She laughed. "Honey, I don't think we have enough time for that."

"What do you mean," he frowned.

"You're not getting any younger," she said gently.

Dave's frown turned to a scowl. "That's the second time today that someone has referenced that I'm old."

Garcia looked at the clock then back at Dave. "It's not even seven yet, what have you been up to this morning, my sweet?"

"Never mind," he said shaking his head. He turned and began to leave the break room.

"Agent Rossi," Garcia called as she followed him to the door. "If you need something I can look it up. I always have time for you."

Dave stopped and looked back at her. "Thanks. I'll let you know."

In his office, Dave sat at his desk and opened the newspaper. He flipped through the pages until he reached the obituaries where he found a small yellow post it note taped to the page. The only info on it was a name, a date of birth and a date of death. This was going to be more difficult than he thought.

"Here's your coffee," Garcia stated as she stepped through his door. She placed a steaming mug on his desk and looked at him. He was stroking his beard as he peered at her.

"Close the door," he requested quietly. "I need to talk to you."

"There's no one else here," she reminded him as she closed the door.

"Please sit," he asked as he gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk.

"I just want it to be on record that you're scaring me once again," she said softly as she sat and scooted the chair closer to his desk.

"Noted," Dave replied as he placed his elbows on his desk and folded his hands together. He rested his chin on his hands and stared at her for several seconds.

"Sir," she began nervously. She began to stand up. "I really have things I should be doing."

He nodded. "Maybe you should do that while I decide how much I can trust you."

She dropped back down onto the chair. "You can trust me, Sir. Whatever you need, just tell me."

"I still remember the last time I asked you to keep something quiet," he reminded her.

"That was a long time ago," she stated a slight blush covered her face and neck. "And in the end you really did need our help."

He took a deep breath and let it out. "That is true," he conceded. "But this time, this time is different. You could lose your job if it was found out that you helped me."

Garcia paled and swallowed hard. "My job? I can't lose my job," she whispered.

"You should go," Dave told her as he looked at his desk and shuffled things around.

"Sir?" she began as she stood once again. "Was there something you needed me to look up?"

"I'll find another way to get that info," he said dismissively.

"I can do it," she pleaded. "I want to do it."

He shook his head. "I don't want to put you in a bad place, Penelope."

"I'm the best tech the FBI has," she said strongly. "If they figure out it was me then I do need to lose my job."

"Garcia…"

"Rossi!"

"Fine," he relented. He reached into the paper and pulled the sticky note off of the page then handed it to her. "This should match a murder case in New Hampshire from ten years ago. Get me everything you can and I swear Garcia, if I find out you have told anyone about this I will never buy you another fuzzy pen or electronic gizmo again let alone talk to you. Understand?"

She nodded. "Yes Sir."

She took the slip of paper and left the room as Dave perused the rest of the newspaper and drank his coffee. He was taking a huge risk in Garcia but somehow he knew this time she wouldn't let him down.

It was a quarter to ten when Garcia slipped into his office and placed a thick folder on his desk. "Sorry it took so long," she apologized. "B team is hot on the trail of a guy in Dallas and needed me to work my magic."

"You're forgiven," Dave smiled. He touched the folder she had brought. "This is more than I expected."

Garcia opened her mouth to speak then stopped herself and closed the door. "There's very little information about the girl whose info you asked for. However, I found a series of murdered women whom were found in the same park as your victim. I didn't know if it would be relevant but I thought since I was already in it I might as well get that info too."

Dave nodded as he opened the file. "Remind me of this the next time something shiny comes out that you want but can't afford."

Garcia grinned at the top of his head. "I'm sure I can come up with something suitable for repayment, maybe dinner?"

He looked up at her. "You want me to take you out to dinner?" he asked watching her closely.

She nodded. "Just like we were on a date," she whispered. She bit her lower lip as she waited for his reply.

"There are rules against fraternization," he reminded her.

"And you started caring about that when?"

He snorted. "I'll let you know if I do," he smiled. "You pick the place Kitten. I'll let you know when."

"And I want a good night kiss," she demanded. "Hell if I'm going in I might as well get the whole experience."

"Sweetheart you couldn't handle the whole experience," he said suggestively enjoying the blush that once again crept across her skin. He absently wondered where that blush started.

"Ok, well maybe not the whole experience," she laughed and he joined her.

A knock at the door broke through their laughter. Garcia opened to the door to find Hotch standing there.

"Is this a private party?" Hotch asked.

Dave closed the file and smiled at his friend and unit chief. "I was napping," he explained. "Garcia was my wake up call."

Hotch frowned. "Have you been here all night?"

"I'm going to my office," Garcia stated as she slipped past Hotch. "I need to check on B team."

"Thank you Garcia," Dave yelled as she made her escape.

"Well?" Hotch asked as he stared at Dave pointedly.

"No I have not been here all night," Dave said. "I left the same time you did, remember? We walked out together."

Hotch's frown lessened as he settled into a chair. "What time did you come in? I didn't see you."

"Seven?" Dave said vaguely.

"Have you gotten any sleep?" Hotch asked worriedly.

"About two hours worth since I came in," Dave smiled.

"Good to know we're paying you for something worthy," Hotch smirked.

"Did you need something? Other wise I will start to do something more constructive."

Hotch shook his head. "I saw Garcia head this way and wanted to see what she was doing," he explained. "Like I said I didn't see you come in so I had no idea you were here."

"I'm the new FBI ninja," Dave smirked.

"At your age? I didn't know ninja's used walkers."

Dave glared at the younger man. "You can leave now."

Hotch laughed as he got up and walked out the door.

'What the hell,' Dave muttered. 'I'm not that freaking old!'

He opened the folder and began reading the information Garcia had compiled. The only thing his victim, Sylvia Mathers and the other victims had in common was the location of their bodies. Sylvia Mathers had been choked to death. The other seven women had also been asphyxiated but had been raped and their bodies were mutilated.

The information for Sylvia Mathers case was only three pages long: the original report, the autopsy report and a short follow up report. It bothered him that the case had been shut down without any reason as to why. He decided to jump in with both feet and call the family.

He picked up the phone and called the operator. After several minutes he had the office and local home phone numbers for Congressman Mathers. The phone number in the report was for the residence in New Hampshire as Congress was in session he took a chance that the whole family would be in the area.

He called the Congressman's office first. After identifying himself to the receptionist he was connected to the Congressman.

"Agent Rossi? What can I do for you," the Congressman asked pleasantly.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Sir but I am looking into the death of your daughter Sylvia and I…"

"I'm sorry," Congressman Mather cut him off. "But the issue is closed. And I don't want you looking into it."

"All due respect Sir but don't you want to know who killed your daughter?" Dave asked.

"I said it's closed," the man said angrily. Dave sighed as the Congressman hung up on him.

He then dialed the other number hoping that Mrs. Mathers would be a little friendlier. He was greeted by a busy signal. He set the receiver in its cradle and waited a few minutes. As he picked up the receiver again he became aware of Hotch at his door.

"What are you working on?" Hotch asked as he stood in the door.

"A cold case," Dave said in reply. "You got something?"

"Yeah, a pissed off Congressman. What the hell are you getting into?"

Dave shrugged. "Just checking out something for a friend," he smiled weakly.

"Whatever it is you need to stop," Hotch ordered. "Find something else to do."

"Ok," Dave replied amiably. Dave watched as Hotch walked away. Jack was right the shit was hitting the fan quickly. He thumbed through the files re-reading the police reports and looking at the pictures. Something was wrong and now he had sunk his teeth into it and just as Jack had predicted he wasn't letting go. He picked up the phone again and dialed.

"Are you insane?"

"Possibly," Dave muttered without looking up. "What do you want Erin?"

Erin Strauss stepped fully into the room glared at him. "I was assured by Agent Hotchner that he told you to stop whatever you were doing with the Sylvia Mathers case."

"That would be true," Dave agreed. He looked at the woman towering over him.

"And have you? No," she continued without letting him answer. "The Director of the FBI has called me personally to tell you to knock it off. I don't care what you are doing it stops now!"

Dave sat back in his chair and looked at her calmly. "Don't you think it's odd that someone's daughter was killed and they don't want to know who did it or to make sure that justice is served?"

"It is none of our business," Strauss growled. "If the family says leave it alone then we will. Do you understand?"

"Completely," Dave said holding his hands up in surrender. "Doesn't mean I agree though."

"Leave it alone David," Strauss warned. "Leave it alone or you could find yourself out in the cold or worse."

"Are you threatening me?" he asked softly.

"I'm trying to get you to see the big picture here," she replied. "Apparently you are as thick headed as ever."

"I see the big picture Erin. Unlike you and most others, I'm not afraid of the dark. I just want to see that justice is served for those who can no longer speak for themselves," he explained.

"How very noble," she said sarcastically. "You should write that down it would be a great line in one of your books."

"I'll be sure to credit you," he sighed.

"You do that David," she said as she started to leave. "Write a damn book, harass some girl or something but leave the Mathers alone!"

Penelope Garcia trudged through the empty bullpen yawning as she made her way to the glass doors. It had been one of the longest days of her career and she was in a hurry to get home. She glanced up at Dave and Aaron's offices to make certain they had gone home too. She stopped mid-stride when she realized Dave's door was open. The lights were off but his door was open. Dave was meticulous about closing his door at night. He would put his trash bin outside the door for the janitors and then lock the door behind him. He hated when people were in his office when he was gone.

She made her way up the ramp and across the catwalk to his door. A shiver ran down her spine as the hair on the back of her neck rose. She peered into the open doorway trying to be as quiet as possible in case he had fallen asleep. It wouldn't have been the first time but usually he had a light on. She didn't see or hear anything so she reached in and flipped on the lights. The room was empty.

She glanced around the room not really noticing anything at first then she realized that some of Dave's personal belongings were gone. Her gaze fell to his desk where she spotted a note sitting. Not caring if she got caught she picked it up and read it. The note was addressed to Hotch.

I believe that everyone deserves justice especially those for whom no one else will speak for. I don't want to involve anyone else in this but I can't stop looking into this case just because some Congressman says so. You're a Father, don't you think it is odd that this man doesn't want his daughters' killer to be found. I will call you when this is over. You can consider this my letter of resignation if you need to. Dave

Garcia dropped the note turned off the lights and closed the door before making her way out of the building. Her head was spinning as she thought through everything. The information Dave had asked for, the way he had been acting all day and now that damn note. The man was working on getting himself into some real trouble. She wanted to help him but knew if she showed up at his door he would kick her out not so politely. She drove home and began to formulate a plan.

"Has anybody heard from Dave?" Hotch asked as he stood in front of Rossi's closed office door. No one answered aloud as they all shook their heads.

"Want me to call him?" Emily asked as she picked up her phone. She listened for a minute then replaced the receiver on the cradle. "Straight to voicemail."

"Anybody see him leave last night?" Hotch asked. Again the team shook their heads.

"Maybe he fell asleep in his office," Reid suggested.

Hotch chuckled. "That wouldn't surprise me."

He turned and tried the knob and was surprised when it opened. He peeked around the door and saw that the room was empty. He flipped on the light to get a better look and saw a note lying on the desk. With a muttered curse he picked up the note and began to read. Still reading the note he pulls out his cell phone dials and starts walking out of Dave's office.

"Get Garcia and meet me in the conference room," he ordered to the room in general as he descended the ramp and left the BAU bullpen.

"Strauss, we have a situation," he said into the phone. "I'm on my way to your office."

David Rossi grabbed his go bag and exited the bus. He peered through the early morning exhaust and tried to get his bearings. Spotting a waiting taxi he strolled over and climbed into the back seat. He gave the cabbie an address and strapped himself in for the ride.

Aaron Hotchner and Unit Chief Erin Strauss entered the conference room silently.

"Where's Garcia?" Hotch asked as he took a quick head count.

"She's not here," Emily replied.

"And she's not answering her phone," Morgan stated as he snapped his own cell phone closed.

"Do you think she went with him?" Strauss asked.

"Went where? With whom?" Morgan asked.

Hotch shook his head as he answered Strauss. "The note said he didn't want to involve anyone else. And she would be the last person he would take with him anywhere."

Strauss nodded. "Maybe she is sick or overslept."

"She was really busy yesterday," Reid piped in.

"We should check anyway," Hotch said solemnly his face as grim as ever.

"What's going on?" Reid asked quietly.

Hotch looked at his team. "Dave was looking into an old murder case in which he was told twice to stop. Apparently, he has decided to continue his investigation away from the BAU and without permission."

"In other words, he's gone rogue," Strauss cut in coldly.

"We've been ordered to find him and stop him," Hotch said bleakly. "Morgan, Prentiss go to Garcia's place and get her in here. We're going to need her expertise."

"Nobody can hide from her," Morgan said as he stood up. "This should be quick."

"I hope so," Strauss grumbled.

Hotch continued. "Reid and I will go over to Dave's and see if he left any clues there."

"What about the case Dave is working on?" Reid asked. "Will we be working on that as well?"

"Absolutely not," Strauss said forcefully. She stopped for a moment then continued in a calmer voice. "You will be allowed to see the case and use it as a tool to find Agent Rossi. However, under no circumstances are you to try and solve the case. Is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am," Hotch replied for the team. "Morgan, Prentiss once you get back here with Garcia start tracking Dave. You know the routine. But remember, Dave knows the routine too. Our only hope is that we can get ahead of him."

Morgan smiled grimly. "We will. We've got one thing he doesn't."

"What's that?" Strauss asked.

"Garcia," the unit replied as a whole.


	2. Fox and the Hounds

Morgan rapped three times on Garcia's apartment door. He and Emily exchanged a glance as they waited for the door to open. After half a minute, he knocked again.

Emily pulled her key ring out of her pocket and slid one of the keys into the deadbolt. She turned the key then unlocked the knob and pushed the door open.

"Garcia," Emily called out as she crossed the threshold.

"Baby Girl where are you?" Morgan yelled as well.

They quickly searched the empty apartment.

"Where the hell is she?" Morgan asked. Frustrated he flipped open his phone and dialed. "Maybe we missed her."

"Morgan," Emily said as she moved to the kitchen. "There's a note."

He snapped his phone shut and moved to her side. "What does it say?"

Emily picked up the note and read it aloud. "Years ago I made a decision that led me to the BAU, today I have made a decision that may ultimately lead me away. I know we all think we are doing the right thing. And who knows maybe we are all doing the right thing. But at this very moment David needs my help. He doesn't know it yet but I do. Take care loves hopefully I will see you again soon. Garcia"

Morgan flipped open his phone and dialed.

"Hotch," he said when the phone was answered. "Things just got worse, Garcia has gone after Rossi."

CMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCM

"Yo Davey! Wake up! There's some broad here that says she's going to close my bank accounts and max out my credit cards if she doesn't see you real soon."

"That would be Garcia," Dave mumbled from his pillow. "I take it she's alone?"

"Yeah," the man in the doorway replied.

"Tell her very nicely that I said go away."

"Yeah, ok" the man replied as he backed out of the doorway and closed the bedroom door.

Dave listened to the receding footsteps for a moment before reaching over and turning on the bedside lamp. Any minute now and he would be having an unwelcomed guest. It wasn't long before the door opened and hurricane Garcia blew in.

"Go home," he said succinctly.

"Not happening," she replied sweetly as she relieved herself of her many bags against the bedroom wall. "You need to get a move on we have lots of things to do. Where are we going from here?"

Dave threw back the covers and sat up. His bare feet dangled over the side of the bed. His hair was mussed and his pajamas were slightly askew on his frame. Garcia tried to hide her smirk at his rumpled state.

"You are going home," he stated in his best interrogator voice.

She shook her head. "If I go back without you they will throw me in jail."

"Says who?"

"Me," she replied sadly. "I've broken so many rules to find you they will put me away for the rest of my life. You don't want that to happen do you?"

He stared at her pensively for a moment. "What did you do?"

"I tampered with the FBI's main server," she confessed.

It was his turn to shake his head. "I don't even know what that means."

"The server is the place that stores any and all information that is accessed by the individual computers," she explained. "It's the brain of any computer system."

"And what did you do to it?" he inquired.

"I erased a lot of really pertinent data," she cringed.

"I still don't see the problem," he sighed as he stood up and stretched.

Garcia was momentarily distracted by the ribbon of skin above his pajama bottoms that was exposed when his shirt rode up. A trail of dark hair split his abdomen in half as it descended from his belly button to somewhere below the waistband of his pants. Dave yawned loudly breaking the spell she was under.

"You need me," she told him.

He lowered his arms and glared at her.

"If I hadn't come here they would have made me find you," she continued. "And then what? You wouldn't be able to solve this case and it would eat at you just like that case in Indiana."

He started to speak but she cut him off. "Look how fast I caught up to you and I'm not a profiler." She grinned at him. "I told you once, you can't hide from me."

"This isn't going to be a vacation," he said harshly wiping the smile from her face.

"I know. I am familiar with field work," she reminded him.

"You have to do what I tell you without hesitation," he said as he moved to stand directly in front of her. His voice dropped to a whisper. "If I tell you to duck, you duck. If I tell you to leave, you do it. No questions asked. Understood?"

She nodded.

"We're going to need as much information as we can get. You go do your thing on the computer while I go take a shower," he ordered.

"I've already compiled everything I could last night," she smiled hesitantly. "We can discuss it when you're done with your shower."

"We'll discuss it in the car," he smiled in return. He leaned over and gently kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you're here. We'll leave when I get dressed."

Dave grabbed his go bag and left the room as Garcia processed the fact that he had just kissed her. Sure, it was a peck on the cheek but he kissed her.

CMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCM

Dave's cousin, who lived in New Jersey, was kind enough to loan them a car; a very spacious, very fast car. Garcia made herself comfortable in the passenger seat and stared at Dave as he drove.

"So we've got eight victims," Dave stated. "Seven of whom are similar in age, education and physical makeup and one just thrown in there randomly. The only thing in common was the dump site. Too bad we don't have any pictures of the crime scene."

"Unfortunately those weren't scanned into the computer," Garcia apologized.

Dave nodded as he maneuvered through the local traffic trying to head north. "I wonder if we call the locals if we'd have any luck," he pondered.

"What if the team is already there?"

"I doubt it. They probably just realized I'm not there unless a new case came in and Hotch tried to call me," he assured her.

"You shut off your phone right?" she asked anxiously. "One of the first things they will try to do is track us through our phones."

"I remember," he said softly. "It's going make communication difficult for us."

"We should get some throw phones," she mumbled while she searched through her purse.

"That's a good idea," he agreed. "Keep an eye out for a place where we can buy some."

They rode in silence for a few miles before spotting a chain store that would serve their purpose. Dave waited in the car while Garcia went in to buy what they needed. She was gone for about fifteen minutes before returning with two bags full of stuff.

"How many phones did you buy?" he questioned.

"Just two," she assured him. "I got some other stuff since we're going to be on the road for a while. I figured we could rely on some snacks to help us get more miles behind us faster."

"Huh?"

"We won't have to stop for food for a while," she said slowly. "Fewer pit stops."

"Oh good lord," he muttered. He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot as Garcia began opening packages.

"I'm going to program my number into your phone and your number into my phone. We should use a code though."

"A code?" he repeated. He rubbed his face with one hand. "You're not going all James Bond on me are you?"

"I just want to be careful," she replied. "If one of us gets caught then the other should know not to answer the phone."

"Ok, you have a code you want to use."

She smiled at him. "Just text me before calling."

"What should I say?"

She thought for a moment. "Just text my nickname."

He glanced over at her.

"Kitten," she urged.

He smiled. "What are you going to text to me?"

"Tom."

"Tom?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded.

He waited for her to explain. She was distracted by the two phones in her hands. "Well?" he prompted.

She looked at him.

He sighed. "Why Tom?"

She grinned. "Tom, as in tom cat. Roar!"

"Oh geez," he groaned.

"Every kitten needs a tom," she smiled. She handed him a phone. "Don't lose it."

"Yes dear," he muttered. He slipped the phone into his shirt pocket.

Three hours later they stopped for gas and to use the restrooms. Dave flipped through the file as he waited for Garcia to return. He needed another advantage or he would be getting no where quickly. As he re-read the notes he realized that all of the files had been updated periodically even if it was to say that nothing new had been found. He decided to take a chance. Flipping to the front of the file he looked for and found the name of the lead detective, Max Carlton.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the number for the local police department. When it was answered he asked for the detective by name.

"Detective Carlton," the deep voice stated that answered the phone.

"Detective, I'm hoping you can help me."

"I'll sure try," the man replied with a distinct New England accent.

"My name is David Rossi," he began.

"Wait!" The detective ordered. "Let me call you back on my cell phone. Give me two minutes. I promise. I'm here for you."

"Ok," Dave said cautiously. "I'll be waiting."

"Who are you calling already?" Garcia asked as she walked up behind Dave.

He turned around. "Detective Carlton."

"What did he say?" she asked anxiously.

"Not much," Dave frowned. "Once I told him my name he told me to wait and said he would call me back from his cell. They can't trace it, right?"

She shook her head. "That's just weird. Why did you call him?"

"You're questioning me?"

"I'm just trying to follow along," she explained. "I have no idea where you are going with this."

Dave was about to answer when his cell phone rang. "Hello," he answered cautiously.

"Sorry about that," Detective Carlton replied. "I didn't want anyone to hear our conversation. The whole department is flipping out because the FBI is coming."

"I see," Dave said.

"I got a call from Aaron Hotchner who told me you might be calling me," Carlton said.

"What else did he say?"

"Just that you were looking into the case of Sylvia Mathers murder and asked us not to help you," Carlton explained.

"I understand," Dave replied dejectedly.

"However," the detective continued. "I've been following this case since the beginning and I would like to see it closed the right way. If you know what I mean."

"I think I do," Dave said feeling more confident. "I had a feeling we were of the same mindset. You're still investigating, aren't you?"

"Yes," Carlton whispered. "Under the radar which hasn't gotten me very far."

"Any chance I could get some help from you?"

"Absolutely," the detective smiled. "When Agent Hotchner called I knew the time had finally come."

"Detective…"

"Max. Please."

"Max," Dave acknowledged. "I'm also looking into seven other murders; white women who were found in the park."

"I know what you're talking about," Max replied.

"I'd really like to see the crime scene photos," Dave told him. "I have the preliminary reports but no pictures."

"Sure. I can get them for you," Max said. "Agent Hotchner never said anything about those cases."

"Good," Dave replied. "I'm hoping he won't find out for a while."

"You think these are all related?"

"Don't you?"

The line was silent for a moment then Dave heard Carlton speak away from the phone. "Tell the FBI I'm talking to my wife and I'll be in there in a moment."

"The team has arrived," Dave told Garcia.

"Yes they have," Carlton confirmed. "Are you in town?"

"No. Unfortunately I have to drive there. I won't be arriving for several hours."

"Alright. I'll gather up what I can and try to keep these guys running around in circles," he laughed. "Call me when you get here, use this number, and we'll meet up."

"Thank you Detective."

"No. Thank you for doing what I've wanted to do for years."

Dave hung up the phone and looked at Garcia. "Looks like we have an inside man."

"Can we trust him?"

"We're going to have to," Dave said. "You want to drive for a while?"

"A 2010 Camaro? Absolutely! Boyfriend you do know the meaning of foreplay!"

Dave shook his head as he climbed into the passenger seat and belted himself in. He wondered what he had just gotten himself into. "Don't get stopped for speeding," he reminded her. "Or our time as The Lone Ranger and Tonto will come to a quick end."

"Yes dear," she grinned as she peeled out of the parking lot.

CMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCM

"We really don't have a lot to go on," Reid stated for the fifth time since they arrived at the police station. "If we had multiple victims then we could build a profile but…"

"Tell us something we don't know Reid," Morgan cut in.

"I think the victim and her attacker knew each other," Reid speculated.

"Why would you say that?" Detective Carlton asked.

"Look at the crime scene photos," he said as he handed a photo to the detective. "See how her arms are crossed? She was mostly covered up and she hadn't been raped."

"I don't understand," the detective replied.

"The crossed arms shows remorse," Morgan filled in. "The suspect was sorry that this happened."

"What about the lack of rape?" the detective questioned further.

"Most female homicides are done by sexual predators," Reid explained.

"Murder is an after thought," Hotch supplied as he walked into the room. "It's a way to cover up the original crime. This is different though, she didn't fight back and her clothes weren't ripped. I agree with Reid our attacked knew her, which doesn't help us much."

"Sure it does," Detective Carlton voiced. "We can interview everyone who knew her and find the killer."

"No we can't," Hotch said grimly. "I thought I made it clear when I called Detective. We're not here to solve this case; we're here to find an Agent who has lost his way."

Detective Carlton snorted. "Lost his way? Are you kidding me? He's trying to solve this case isn't he?"

Hotch nodded.

"I'd say someone is finally doing the right thing!"

"I understand," Hotch said. "And please believe me I agree. Unfortunately, I have my orders."

"So you're going to let a murderer continue to go free?" the detective asked.

Hotch glanced around the room and saw that they had garnered the attention of everyone in the police station.

"Agent Rossi is working outside of the law and even though his intention is well put it is misguided. Anyone caught trying to help him can and will be punished by federal law. David Rossi is my friend and I know that what he is doing is the right thing however, sometimes we have to do what we are told," Aaron stated loudly. "Even if it means letting a killer go free. I'm sorry."

Detective Carlton sighed and let his shoulders slump. "I know. I was just hoping that after all of these years something good would come out of this."

Aaron stepped next to the detective and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand your frustration," he whispered. "Trust me we're going to drag this out as long as we can."

"I'm sorry?" Detective Carlton frowned.

"Tell your wife, I mean you ex-wife, to hurry his ass up."

Detective Carlton bit back a smile. "I don't know what you mean."

"I'm sure you do," Hotch replied as he stepped away.

CMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCM

David Rossi pulled the car into a shabby looking motel about three miles from their destination. After two hours of reminding Garcia to slow down and listening to her sing loudly to the crap she called music he had had enough and made her switch with him. He had changed the station immediately and turned the volume down that had been four hours ago. Garcia had pouted for about twenty minutes before falling asleep. Now Dave was really tired and wanted to get some sleep himself but he knew he had a long night ahead of him.

"Where are we?" Garcia asked.

"The area's least finest motel," he answered.

"We're not staying here, are we?"

"You don't like it?"

"It looks like the Bates Hotel," she replied.

"It probably is," he muttered as he got out of the car.

"David!" She followed him to the office. "Can't we go a little further?"

"We'll change hotels tomorrow," he assured her.

"I don't want to sleep alone in this place," she grumbled as she grabbed his arm and clung to it.

"Ok," he agreed. He smiled at the desk clerk. "We need a room."

"I don't have any doubles," the clerk stated. "One room, one bed. Is that ok?"

"That's fine," Dave said quickly ignoring the pain in his arm as Garcia squeezed it tightly. He looked at her pointedly as the clerk stepped away. "What?"

"We're sharing a bed?"

"Unless you want your own room," he said. "I'm not sleeping on the floor or in the bathtub."

She huffed at him.

"Ok," the clerk said. "That'll be forty bucks."

Dave handed over some cash and took the key. He signed the registry and they left the office.

"I hope you didn't just sign your name," she said darkly.

He grinned at her. "I did. Mister Tom Katz and his beautiful wife, Kitten."

Garcia laughed as they made their way back to the car then up to their room. As promised the room had one bed, gratefully it was a queen sized bed. They placed their bags in the room; Garcia scrounged through her shopping bags as Dave surveyed the room.

"We don't have much food left," she announced. "In fact we only have a handful of crackers."

"We'll get something when we meet up with Max," Dave told her.

She looked at him round eyed. "I'm going too?"

He nodded. "You won't meet him. In fact, I want you to observe from a distance and pretend that you don't know me. Can you do that?"

She nodded. "Where are we going to meet him?"

"I don't know. I need to call him and let him know we're in town or close to it."

He pulled out his cell and dialed the detective's number.

"I was starting to worry," the detective said as he answered.

"Sorry, it took longer than I expected," Dave explained. "Can you still meet me tonight?"

"Yeah," Max replied. "There's a church at the edge of town on the east side, can you meet me there in say, an hour?"

"Ok," Dave agreed. "What kind of car do you drive?"

"I have a green Ford truck but I'll be walking the church is about three blocks from the police station," Max stated.

"Ok. I'll meet you there," Dave stated and hung up the phone. He looked at Garcia. "Let's go."

"We're going now?"

He nodded. "I want to scout ahead. Always be prepared."

"Isn't that the boy scout motto?" she asked.

"It's our motto now as well," he informed her.

"If you say so Tom," she laughed as they left the motel room.


	3. The Chase is On

Penelope Garcia slumped down as far as the steering wheel would allow her but not so far that she wouldn't be able to see Dave. She shivered in anticipation and wished that she could turn the engine on and have some heat but Dave told her that it would draw unwanted attention.

When she had first set out to join Dave she was pretty certain she knew what she was doing. She quickly realized though that this was not the typical case and she was in way over her head. Dave had tried to warn her and she had assured him that she would be alright. And she knew she would be because Dave was there. She had faith in him and she also realized that he had faith in her too. 'He must have,' she thought, 'or there was no way in hell she would be here with him now.'

She peered through the darkness to the spot where she had last seen Dave and hoped that she hadn't missed anything. Across the street she saw a man in a suit walking quickly towards the church. He stopped near the front doors then continued around to the side where Dave was waiting.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"That's close enough," Dave ordered from his hiding spot in the dark. The man stopped walking and raised his hands.

"Rossi?" the man asked cautiously. "I'm Detective Carlton."

"You can put your hands down," Dave said graciously as he slipped out of the shadows. "I trust you."

"Do you?"

"There has to be someone I can trust and I've decided it is you," Dave smiled.

"Thanks," Max smiled as he reached out to shake hands with the other man. "I trust you too. I trust you to solve this case."

"I'm going to do my best," Dave promised. "Did you bring the pictures?"

"Yep and a few other things," the man said as he reached under the back of his coat and pulled a file out of the waistband of his pants. He handed it to Dave.

Dave flipped through the folder pausing a moment on each picture. "Where is the dump site?"

"It's a park about five miles out of town," Max explained. "I drew a map of the park and marked where the bodies were found."

Dave flipped through the papers and found the crudely drawn map. "This should help a lot."

"I hope so," Max sighed. "You know I can kind of understand where the family is coming from on this what with all the tragedy they had going on."

"Tragedy?"

Max nodded. "About six months after Sylvia was killed her brother Brian committed suicide."

"Did he leave a note," Dave asked suspiciously.

Max shook his head. "He was in a mental facility. After Sylvia died he went a little crazy. I wasn't surprised though the boy had been having troubles for years."

"What kind of troubles?" Dave inquired.

"Petty stuff mostly. I think when he was twelve he was caught peeping into a neighbors' window. I don't really remember the details," Max shrugged. "It's been so long ago."

"Interesting," Dave said vaguely as he continued to look at the file. "Is any of that in here?"

"No. That would be part of his juvy record and that was sealed when he turned eighteen."

Dave smiled. "That's ok. I'll look into it."

"I hope you're better with computers than I am," Max laughed. "I can barely turn the damn things on let alone get access to a sealed file."

"I'm not good at it either but I know someone who is."

"Good luck with that," Max snorted. "Oh by the way, Agent Hotchner told me to give you a message."

Dave froze for a moment before slowly looking up. "And what would that message be?"

"He said for you to hurry your ass up," Max quoted.

Dave let out a breath in relief. "The man has no patience," he huffed.

"I get the feeling he's under a lot of pressure," Max stated.

Dave snorted. "I'm sure he is."

"Let me know if there is anything else you need," Max offered. "I'll do whatever I can."

"I appreciate that," Dave smiled. He tucked the file folder under his left arm. The two men stepped out of the shadows as they said their good-byes. Dave reached over and shook the detective's hand as a gunshot exploded in the night air. Max stumbled towards Dave and began to sink to the ground.

Another shot rang out and Max jerked again. Dave grabbed the detective and pulled him into the shadows next to the building. In the cover of the darkness Dave tried to find the gunman. Max lay on the ground next to Dave and moaned.

"Where are you hit?" Dave asked.

"Leg," Max moaned. "And back."

"Shit," Dave cursed. "We need some help."

Max gasped. "You need to get out of here. I'll call for help."

Max pulled out his cell phone and dropped it from his shaky hands. Dave reached over and picked it up he dialed a familiar number as another shot rang out the bullet crashed into the church wall above Dave's head leaving a puff of dust and a dent.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

SSA Aaron Hotchner's cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the caller ID; it was a number he was unfamiliar with but he answered it.

"Hotchner," Aaron said briskly.

"Son of a…"

"Hello," Aaron said as he listened intently. The sound of gunfire echoed through his phone.

"Hotch! We need help!"

"Dave?" Hotch replied arousing the interest of his team who were gathered in the room they had commandeered. "What the hell? Where are you?"

"Church down the street. We're being shot at," Dave explained quickly.

Hotch could hear a distant shot then three successive closer shots. He heard Dave curse again before a loud roaring overwhelmed the line. The phone went eerily quiet for a few seconds then Hotch could hear a faint moan.

"Dave! Dave are you alright?" Hotch asked coming as close to panicked as anyone had every seen. He looked at the anxious faces in the room than moved to the doorway to the bullpen the phone still pressed tightly to his ear.

"Is there a church near here?" Hotch asked the assembled police officers.

"Three blocks east of here," someone answered.

"I think there is a shooting going on down there," he announced. "We may have an officer down!"

Just then the police radio called for all cars to respond to gunfire at the church. Hotch and his team headed to the area on foot – weapons drawn.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Penelope nervously waited for Dave to finish his meeting and join her in the car. She was hungry, tired and apprehensive. And she didn't like this situation one bit. Whatever it was that had compelled her to do this was going to be ignored in the future.

She breathed deeply and tried to relax as she saw Dave and the other man step out of the shadows. She sat a little straighter preparing to leave when a loud bang rent through the night. Watching in horror she saw the detective stumble towards Dave when a second shot rang out then both men disappeared into the shadows.

Fear gripped her as she suddenly had images of her own would-be killer flash through her mind. She sank down into the seat and prayed that she wouldn't become a target too.

Seconds ticked by slowly then a third shot was fired. Suddenly the shadows where Dave and the detective had disappeared lit up with returning gunfire.

"Oh my God! Dave!" she cried. She reached blindly for the ignition throwing the car into gear as soon as the engine roared to life. The wheels spun as she jammed on the gas pedal propelling the vehicle across the street and into the church parking lot. She stopped near the shadow where she thought Dave was. The passenger door was yanked open and Dave flung himself on the seat.

"Go," he ordered.

She didn't hesitate; she jammed the pedal again swung the car around and launched them into the street. She drove quickly leaving the city behind them in a matter of seconds.

Dave lay curled on the seat next to her breathing heavily clutching his gun in one hand and a file folder in the other.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The team arrived at the church at the same time as the first patrol cars. The area was eerily quiet as the approached. Staying alert they searched the parking lot and the outside of the church.

Morgan located Detective Carlton lying behind a bush in the shadows. The man was conscious but in a lot of pain.

"Take it easy," Morgan said calmly. "An ambulance is on the way."

"I'm alright," Max smiled tensely.

Hotch came over and knelt down beside the injured man. "Where's Dave?" he asked without preamble.

Max shook his head. "Got in his car and left after he called you."

"Was he hurt?" Hotch continued.

"Don't know that either," Max replied through clenched teeth.

"What about Garcia?" Morgan interjected.

"Who?" Max frowned.

"The girl with Dave," Hotch explained.

"Never saw a girl," Max answered. "Just Dave."

Hotch and Morgan exchanged a look.

"Maybe she hasn't caught up to him," Hotch pondered.

"I hope not," Morgan replied. "Baby Girl does not need to be around this kind of shit."

The ambulance arrived and the attendants took over the scene as Hotch and Morgan joined the rest of the team.

"Garcia's not here yet," Morgan announced.

"Then who was driving the car?" Spencer asked.

"What do you mean?" Hotch questioned.

"There are tire tracks across the street and in the parking lot. The tracks are fresh and thick indicating that whoever was driving that vehicle was in a hurry," Spencer explained. "It looks like the car was sitting over there then moved over to the church."

"And if Dave was pinned down with the detective…" Morgan started.

"Then Garcia was driving the car," Hotch finished.

"Or the car belonged to the shooter and he took Dave," Emily suggested.

Hotch's frown deepened. "That is quite possible. There was a loud noise on the phone could have been an engine then the line went quiet. I didn't hear anymore gunshots. Are the police having any luck locating where the shots came from?"

Emily shook her head. "They're canvassing the area but so far they have nothing."

Hotch turned to Spencer. "You and Morgan stay here and see if you can pinpoint where that shooter was. Emily, I want you to go to the hospital and talk to the detective. Find out what he and Dave were talking about and see if you can get any information about the car that Dave left in. I'm going to start checking the local hotels and motels. If someone is shooting at police officers then Dave and possibly Penelope are in a lot of danger."

"What the hell kind of mess has Rossi gotten himself into this time?" Morgan asked no one in particular.


	4. Aftermath

Derek Morgan stood in the church parking lot and scanned the area for possible places a sniper could hide. Behind him, Dr. Spencer Reid was examining bullet holes, the only two they could find, and attempting to determine where the bullets had been fired from using scientific methods. Derek knew that this could be done, if they knew what kind of bullets had been used which could tell them the type of rifle used and then determine the speed of the bullet and trajectory and a whole lot of other factors that weren't making themselves known. Derek decided to use an old fashioned method – he looked around.

There were several rooftops that would make good hiding spots but most of them were located on locked or otherwise inaccessible buildings. Unless this guy was Spiderman there was no way he was using them. Another possibility was a tree lined ridge located about a mile from the church. The guy would have to use a night scope to be accurate from that distance. Derek shivered at the thought of a professional killer tracking Dave and "his" Baby Girl.

Derek turned back to Reid. The younger man was hunched over hastily making notations in a notebook.

"Hey kid," Derek called out getting Reid's attention. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I'm going to go check out that ridge. You going to be ok for a few minutes?"

Reid peered at the dark tree line for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah, I'm going to finish my calculations," he mumbled as his head bent over his notebook again.

Derek smiled to himself as he walked away the kid was tenacious if nothing else. He approached a pair of officers and asked one of them to keep an eye on Reid and the other officer he asked to give him a ride to the ridge.

Derek and the officer drove slowly up the tree lined street until they reached an area where a vehicle had noticeably been parked. The officer stopped in the road and turned on his overhead lights as Derek got out to inspect the area. There were fresh tire tracks and a trail that led to the edge of the trees. He followed the trail to end.

Derek pulled out his phone and called Hotch.

"I think I found where our shooter was hiding," he said as Hotch answered the line. "There's a ridge about a mile from the church. I found some tire tracks and an area that looks like someone had been lying down."

"Anything else?" Hotch asked.

Derek squatted low and peered through the trees. "No shell casings or anything but if I was lying down I would have a clear view of the church from here."

"Alright," Hotch sighed. "Get some molds of the tire tracks. Then get back here to the police station."

"You got it," Derek stated. He snapped his phone shut and peered through the trees once more. "Dammit Dave, when I get my hands on you you're going to wish you were dead!"

He only hoped that the man had enough sense to keep Penelope as far away from danger as possible. She had been through enough drama with her own shooting and the trip to hell Alaska. Reluctantly he hoped that the driver of the car had been the shooter and not his Baby Girl as Emily had suggested though that meant Dave could already be dead. His heart, however, told him that she was the driver of the car.

Why she would go after Dave, he had no idea. She hated violence and had sworn that hell would freeze over before she went into the field again. It must be really cold down there, he thought. He wanted his friends back and he wanted them back now!

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Spencer Reid frowned at the figures in front of him wishing they would tell him exactly what he wanted to know. But without certain key elements he was at a loss. In his pocket his phone buzzed to life jolting the young man out of his contemplations.

"Yeah Derek."

"I found the shooters' spot," Derek announced. "Look at the ridge."

Spencer peered into the inky blackness at the area Derek had indicated earlier. He spotted a red dot in the night.

"Can you see my light," the black man asked waving the flashlight in his hand.

"Yes," Spencer answered calmly.

"This is where he was laying," Derek stated.

"Ok. With the distance factored in as well as trajectory, wind speed and temperature I should be able to narrow down the possible weapons used."

"Good. Pack up your stuff and head back to the police station. I'll meet you there," Derek said.

"Alright," Spencer agreed. He disconnected the call and put his phone away. After saying good night to the officer on the scene he began to walk back to the police station. His mind was running at top speed but he was having a difficult time focusing. He should have been calculating in his head instead he found himself wondering about his missing colleagues.

He and Penelope Garcia had been friends for a long time. She was his polar opposite: extroverted, gregarious and bold she made the perfect yin to his yang and he missed her terribly. What surprised him most though was that he missed Dave as well. The older man had slowly been filling the shoes as mentor that had been left vacant when Gideon left, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

David Rossi had been less than thrilled by Spencer's early attempts at camaraderie. Spencer spent numerous hours trying to get Rossi to sit and talk to him about his books and experiences but the older profiler had continually rebuffed him. Until one day not long after a particularly grueling case, weren't they all, Rossi had approached Reid and invited him to dinner.

Spencer had nearly refused stating a need to catch up on some reading when he stopped himself mid-sentence and said yes. He was glad that he had given in to that impulse. David Rossi had been patient and open that evening and many evenings after that as well. Spencer never asked the man why he had a change of heart, he didn't want to spoil it, but he often wondered about it. And now, he wondered if he would get to spend any more precious hours with him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Heart racing, hands convulsing tightly on the steering wheel, right foot mashing the gas pedal to the floor she stole a glance at the man still curled up on the seat next to her. He hadn't moved nor spoken since he had jumped into the car and yelled "Go"!

Was he hurt? Was he dead? She ignored the impulse to reach over and touch him. Instead she fought with gravity as the car hurtled around a curve the tires digging fervently for purchase in the soft gravel on the side of the road. She startled as a large masculine hand landed on her arm.

"Slow down," Dave ordered tiredly. He released her arm picked up the gun from the seat and slid it into the holster on his hip before going still again.

Penelope eased her foot off of the accelerator startled, once again, to see the speedometer needle drop below one hundred. She had never driven so fast in her life!

The motel they left mere hours ago loomed on the horizon. Penelope pressed on the brake decelerating the vehicle rapidly. She eased the car into the parking lot slid into an empty space and shut off the engine before turning her full attention to the man next to her.

"Are you ok?" she asked desperately. She swallowed a huge lump in her throat and fought back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

"I think so," he replied wearily. He sat up and looked around only just becoming aware of their surroundings. "You drive too fast!"

"I was scared," she whispered throatily. "I usually run really fast when I'm scared."

"I'll make a note of that," he said wryly. He popped his door open and staggered to his feet. He grabbed the top of the door to steady himself as he began to sway.

Terrified that he was indeed injured and about to make it worse, Penelope scrambled from her seat and hurried around the car.

"You don't look alright," she admonished as she wrapped an arm around his waist. He leaned on her heavily, confirming her suspicions, allowing her to assist him to their room. She opened the door. He practically fell inside stumbling to the queen sized bed before collapsing on it and dragging Penelope with him.

"David," She said frantically as he lay there eyes closed and breathing raggedly. She pushed herself up so that she was leaning over him. Trailing her eyes over him she looked carefully for any sign that he had been shot. Not happy with what she was not seeing, she pulled out of his embrace, stood up and turned the light on next to the bed.

From the side of the bed she reached over and began unbuttoning his shirt. She pulled the ends out of the waistband of his pants the slide her hands across his abdomen, chest and around his back.

"What are you doing?" he asked sounding amused.

"Checking for wounds," she growled. "You're not being very forthcoming with the health report so I am checking for myself!"

He sat up unexpectedly and slid out of his shirt. Penelope grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. She eyed his torso carefully as he toed out of his shoes each of which making a loud clunk as they hit the floor. He lay back on the bed and grinned mischievously.

"Are you going to check the lower half too?"

"Damn right I am," she replied hastily. She reached for his belt loosening it before opening his jeans. She slipped his pants off and dropped them on the floor as she looked him over carefully. It took her a full minute before she realized she had just stripped her boss and she was now ogling his underwear and sock clad body.

Slowly she raised her eyes to his as she felt the heat overwhelm her cheeks. "You really are ok aren't you," she stated rather than asked.

The grin faded from his lips as he stared at her. "My knee hurts."

She dropped her eyes to his knees and noticed that the right one was swollen. Gently she massaged the area around it. "What happened?"

He sat up with a grimace. "I twisted it when I jumped in the car."

"We should put some ice on it." She went to her bag and started rummaging through it.

"You have ice in there?" he asked amused.

She snorted as she pulled out a plastic bag. "No but they should have some near the vending machine."

He stopped her as she reached the door.

"Take my gun," he ordered. She looked at him and saw that he was holding his gun out to her.

"You know I don't like guns," she whispered.

"I don't like guns either," he told her. "But you know what I don't like even more?"

She shook her head.

"I don't like other people who have guns trying to kill me," he spat. "Now take the damn thing with you."

She glared at him. "Do you really think it would do any good? That was a sniper out there! I wouldn't have any chance hitting a sniper! Besides, we don't know that he was after you and me. He was probably after the detective. And he has no idea who we are."

"That may be true but that doesn't mean the creepy guy in the office isn't lurking around somewhere out there," he said as he continued to hold the gun out to her.

"I hate you," she grumbled as she moved over and took the gun from him. She gripped it tightly in her right hand. She could already feel the sweat beading in her palm. "Get under the covers so you don't freeze."

He grinned and batted his eyelashes at her. "But then you won't be able to ogle me anymore."

"Shut up!" she ordered as she left the room.

She quietly made her way to the vending machines where there was an ice machine as well. She filled the bag as best she could with one hand holding the gun and pushing a button and the other holding the bag open. Just as she finished she heard a noise behind her.

She jumped turning around and pulling the trigger on the gun. There was a loud click as the gun fired but nothing else. Garcia frowned at the gun then looked at the cause of the original noise: a large orange cat sat on its haunches and stared at her. She let out a breath in relief glad that she hadn't killed the kitty.

Hurrying back to the room she let herself in a closed the door gently behind her. Dave was still lying on top of the covers but now he was reading through the file. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his masculine form once again. 'It didn't matter that he was over 50, he was a damn fine looking man,' she thought.

"You're staring again," he teased.

She swallowed a reply and walked closer to him. She dropped the gun on the bed beside him and moved to the bathroom. When she came back she was wrapping the plastic bag in a towel. "I think it's broke," she announced as she placed the bag on his knee.

"It's not broke," he sighed. "I wouldn't be able to walk if it was broke."

"I mean the gun," she said as she moved away and grabbed her go bag.

He looked at the gun then at her. "What do you mean broke? What did you do?"

"I tried to shoot a cat and it just made a clicky noise when I pulled the trigger thingy," she explained.

He laughed. "You tried to shoot a cat?"

He picked up the gun and released the ammunition cartridge.

"It scared me," she defended. "But the kitty is all right though the same can't be said about your gun."

"Its fine," he breathed. "It's out of ammo."

She frowned at him. "You let me take a gun with no ammo?"

"Good thing you couldn't shoot the cat," he smiled. "I like kitties."

"Whatever! I'm going to go change," she told him. "And would you please get under the covers? You're making me cold."

"Don't worry Kitten, I'll keep you warm," he promised as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door. She fumbled through her go bag and realized that the only nightwear she had packed were two semi-revealing nightgowns. Neither of which were proper attire for sleeping platonically with ones boss.

She thought about wearing her street clothes to bed but she knew he would make a bigger deal out of it than her wearing a nightgown. She changed into the first one she grabbed then slid her robe over it and re-packed her bag. After finishing her toiletries she grabbed her bag and headed out to the main room.

Dave had maneuvered himself under the covers except for his leg with the ice pack on it.

"How's the knee," she asked as she sat on the edge of the bed near his leg.

"Cold," he replied succinctly.

She removed the ice pack and gently rubbed the area. "Does this hurt?"

"No. It's a little numb."

"I have some over the counter pain relievers, do you want some?"

He shook his head.

"We should wrap this tomorrow," she mused as she continued to inspect his knee.

"Are you going to stay there all night or are you coming to bed?" he asked gently.

"I'm going to put this in the sink first," she said as she help up the bag of ice and the towel.

In the bathroom she hung up the towel and dropped the bag in the sink prepared to deal with it in the morning. It was after midnight now and she was very tired. She entered the main room to find Dave completely under the covers waiting for her.

"Make sure the door is secure," he suggested.

She complied without speaking making certain the knobs were turned correctly and placing the chain in its channel before heading to the bed. She slid off her robe piling it on the bedside table before slipping under the covers.

"Nice," Dave said quietly. She turned to see him watching her. His eyes were half-closed and he was leaning on one elbow. "Did you pick this out for me?"

"It's all I have with me," she replied softly as she felt a flutter in her stomach.

"You knew you were going to be alone with me," he pointed out. "Did you pack this for a reason?"

"I like it," she gulped.

"So do I," he whispered. She felt his fingertips caress her arm.

"David," she squeaked.

He chuckled. "Don't worry Kitten; you're safe; for tonight anyway."

He turned away and she heard a click as the room was encompassed in darkness. She lay there listening to him breathing next to her over the thumping of her heart.

"You can cuddle to my back if you get cold," he offered.

"Thanks," she replied softly as she stared at the ceiling. Her mind was now sifting through the nights' events and she couldn't seem to shut it down. She felt a shudder slip through her body as she re-lived those moments of pure terror.

"Kitten," Dave said sharply gaining her attention.

"What?"

"Snuggle up to me," he demanded. She rolled onto her side and pressed against his smooth warm back. His hair tickled her nose. She felt one of his hands slid across her abdomen.

"What are you doing?"

"Give me your hand."

She put her hand in his and he drew it over his body pulling her closer as he tucked her arm under his. Her fingers tangled in the silky hair on his chest and her legs entwined with his.

"Do you think he's ok," she asked suddenly.

"Who?"

"The detective."

"Max? Yeah, I'm sure he's fine," Dave assured her. "Hotch and the team were only minutes away and I'm certain your arrival surprised the shooter. He probably thought that both of us drove away."

"I hope so," she whispered. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew we left him there to die."

"Kitten…"

He rolled over and pulled her into his arms as her tears warmed his bare chest. "I'll call Hotch tomorrow, ok?"

She nodded.

"Stop crying," he whispered as he wiped her cheeks with his hand. "It's been a long day try to get some sleep."

"Ok," she agreed. She snuggled into his embrace. "Don't you have any pajamas?"

"Yeah," he replied. "They're in my bag."

"Why didn't you put them on?" she asked indignantly.

"You're the one who undressed me," he laughed. "I figured you wanted me this way."

"Do you want your pajamas?" she asked as she tried to pull out of his embrace.

"No," he said as he pulled her back. "I'm happy just the way I am. That sexy nightgown and your smooth legs…"

"Are you getting turned on?"

"Getting?" he laughed. "Honey you turned me on a long time ago. Go to sleep, Kitten."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Detective Max Carlton stretched out on the not so soft hospital bed and waited for his doctor to come in. His wounds were serious but not critical the emergency room doctor had already removed both bullets as neither had entered very far. However he needed to give David Rossi some time to stay ahead of the pack. He had a plan and just hoped he could convince his doctor to cooperate.

"Jesus Christ," Doctor Tom Galloway swore as he entered the exam room. "What the hell, Max?"

Max grinned cheekily at his cousins husband as he waited for the other man to close the door.

"Good to see you too," Max replied.

"This report from the ambulance crew says you were shot by a sniper," Doctor Galloway pointed out.

"Yeah," Max agreed. "Luckily for me he wasn't that good of a shot."

The Doctor glared at him before replying. "Yeah, lucky you!"

"It's not like I went looking for the guy," Max said defensively.

"Yeah well he found you," Doctor Galloway pointed out. "But again, you are a lucky man. Neither of the two bullets hit anything major. You should be up and about in no time flat."

"About that," Max sighed. "Do you think you could tweak that a bit?"

Galloway lifted a brow at his wife's cousin and long time friend. "What's going on?"

"Any minute now an agent from the FBI is going to show up here wanting to talk to me, I need to put that off as long as possible."

"I'm still listening," Galloway said as he settled on a stool.

Max took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "There's another agent that I'm helping to solve the Mathers case but he needs some time."

"Mathers? Sylvia Mathers?" Galloway questioned.

Max nodded. "However, someone doesn't want this guy investigating the case."

"This agent that you're helping is this the one you don't want to see?"

"No. This will be one of several agents trying to stop the agent I'm helping," Max explained.

Doctor Galloway stared at his friend and relative by marriage for a few moments before speaking. "It sounds complicated… and dangerous."

"Apparently so," Max conceded. "Can you help me out? Tell them that I'm unconscious and won't be available until morning at the earliest."

It was the doctors turn to sigh. "You're putting me in a tight spot here Max."

"I know. But I wouldn't ask unless it was important," Max stated. "You know this case has been eating me up. I want it finished and finally someone is here to finish it. Please."

Doctor Galloway blinked slowly as he thought about the consequences. He had already been thinking about retirement there was enough money in the bank that it could be a reality if need be. He sighed mentally knowing that even if he couldn't retire he would still do the same thing.

"I'll try to stretch it until noon," he gave in. "But you need to behave yourself. No loud tv no calling the nurses and if you're unconscious – you can't eat. Think you can do that?"

Max grinned. "I think I can make that sacrifice."

"Alright," Doctor Galloway grumbled. "I'll go tell the nurses you are not to have any visitors under any circumstances. I hope this friend of yours come through on this. I know this whole town would like to know what really happened ten years ago."

"I know, Tom. And thanks."

"Don't mention it," Galloway said as he left the room.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Emily Prentiss entered the brightly lit emergency room and sent up a silent prayer of thanks that none of her immediate colleagues were here. She was already worried about both Dave and Penelope but when Hotch had nearly freaked out during that phone call it was all she could do to hold herself together.

It still wasn't confirmed that Garcia was with Rossi though they all knew she was. Garcia had done some crazy and unusual things in her time at the BAU but this had to be the craziest. The woman had no idea how to defend herself. What the hell was David Rossi thinking taking Penelope with him? What was he thinking period. It was one thing to investigate a case quietly on your own it was another thing to go rogue. She had dealt with a few rogue agents in her time and it wasn't fun. And no matter how hard Dave tried he really didn't fit the profile of a rogue agent.

She had admired the man from a distance before he had even joined or re-joined the team. She had read all of his books hell anyone halfway interested in profiling had read his books. She had been prepared to ward off a womanizing lothario and instead ended up with a good friend one she could count on no matter what the situation. She laughed inwardly thinking about all the late night conversations she, Garcia and JJ had about the man.

There had been several betting pools when he re-joined the bureau all of which were aimed at picking who his first female target would be and how long it would take for him to break the fraternization rules. So far no one had won any of the pools. The man had been acting like a saint much to the consternation of several women in the bureau. No, David Rossi was definitely an enigma; a very special enigma. She wished there was some way she could help him.

She made her way to the processing station and waited for the nurse to acknowledge her. She pulled out her credentials and smiled. "Special Agent Emily Prentiss I need to see Detective Carlton. He was brought in here within the last 10 minutes."

The nurse stared at her credentials for a few minutes before meeting Emily's eyes. "He's still being evaluated it will be a while before anyone can see him."

"I understand that but he has information we need on a case," Emily explained. "This is just as much an emergency as saving his life is."

The nurse stared at Emily again briefly. "I'll check with the doctors. Wait here."

Emily put her credentials in her pocket and turned to look at the people in the waiting room as the nurse went through a set of double doors to the exam area. The place wasn't packed like most emergency rooms and nobody looked like they were bleeding or about to be sick. Emily frowned. 'What kind of emergencies do these people have?' she wondered silently.

The nurse returned and gave Emily a fake smile. "I'm sorry apparently the detective is unconscious at this time. You can wait if you like or I can call you when he wakes up."

Emily's frown deepened. "Let me call my boss and I'll get back to you."

She walked back out into the cool night air and pulled out her cell.


	5. On the Trail

"I hope you are calling to tell me you found Rossi and are bringing him home," Erin Strauss said when she answered her phone.

Hotch let out a breath before replying. "No ma'am but I have heard from him."

"He called you?" she stated rather than asked. "The wily bastard. What did he say?"

"Help!" Hotch laughed humorlessly. He quickly explained the nights' events and waited for her reply.

"Are you certain that Garcia is with him?"

Hotch swallowed hard. "The evidence says yes."

"Alright. What's your next step?"

"We're checking the local hotels to see if we can find where they are staying. I'm sending Emily back to the hospital in the morning to talk to the Detective and we will continue to follow Dave and see if we can catch up to him," Hotch detailed.

"What about the sniper?" Strauss asked.

"At this point I'm letting the locals take the lead on that," he stated. "Since we don't know if Dave was hurt we have no reason to investigate; we're keeping this as a local jurisdiction event."

"Good idea," Strauss agreed. "What else do you have?"

"Not much," Hotch said with a sigh. "I've got the techs going through Garcia's computer to see if they can find any information that may be useful. However, there is a problem."

"What kind of problem," Strauss asked coldly.

"According to technical analyst Lynch, Garcia not only wiped her computers memory she deleted some things from the FBI's main database," he explained reluctantly.

"What does that mean?"

"We may never know what she was looking at," he conceded.

"Do you have any good news for me?"

"Not at this time."

It was her turn to sigh. "Fine. Call me when you do."

Hotch ended the call then dialed another number.

"SSA Hotchner?"

"Kevin, please tell me you're making some progress," Hotch said softly.

"I wish I could," Kevin replied. "Garcia's the best and this is just a reminder of her awesomeness."

"Focus Kevin," Hotch admonished lightly.

"Yes sir," Kevin replied. "I'll call you when I have something."

"Call me in two hours whether you have anything or not," Hotch ordered.

"Will do," Kevin said as the line went dead.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

David Rossi lay on his back still holding tightly to the younger woman in his arms. He gently rubbed her back as he listened to her rhythmic breathing. His eyes were closed but there was no way he was sleeping just yet. Someone out there really didn't want this case investigated and was willing to kill for it.

He glanced briefly at the plump blond snuggled against his chest and gave her a slight squeeze. He was worried about her safety more than anything else. Somehow, somewhere in time she had wormed her way into his heart. He should have shown her the door when she first showed up at his cousin's house and taken his chances at hiding from her. But now, he was responsible for keeping her safe and whether she liked it or not she was responsible for him too.

He wondered not for the first time why she had followed him she hated being out in the field and yet here she was with him chasing someone who was willing to kill.

"David," Pen asked drowsily.

"Yeah," he replied in a whisper.

"You're thinking too loud."

He chuckled. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Is your leg bothering you?" she asked.

"No, it's fine."

"Ok," she said sleepily. "Please shut off your brain and go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be hell and I don't want a grumpy Italian on my hands."

"Yes dear," he smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hotch leaned against the edge of the table and stared at the white board. He had insisted that pictures of Dave and Garcia be posted on the board just like any other person they were pursuing. He shook his head and smiled grimly as he looked at the conglomeration of pictures the team had downloaded from their collective cell phones. There were about twenty photos from various parties and barbecues but his favorite had been taken in the BAU bullpen. Dave and Garcia were hugging cheek to cheek and smiling at the camera.

He sighed and ran a tired hand across his face. Not for the first time he wished he could turn back the clock and stop this fiasco before it had started. He should have realized that Dave would not heed his warning to stop digging into the cold case. He had known Dave long enough to know that the man was doggedly persistent when he was chasing an Unsub and no one would stop him.

His eyes settled on the ten year old picture of Sylvia Mathers and he sighed again. No matter what Strauss said, he knew that this case needed to be solved. Honestly, it didn't matter what the family said when it came to murder it was their job to find out the truth. He only hoped he could allow Dave enough time and space to do this and still be close enough to help if his friend needed it.

At the moment, he was definitely at a loss as to where Dave was in solving this case. He needed to speak to Detective Carlton and find out what Dave was asking about.

The rest of the team had retired to their hotel at his urging. He moved from the desk and gathered his belongings. Even though he knew he wouldn't sleep he would go to the hotel and rest. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Penelope typed quickly on her laptop silently urging her baby to work faster. Internet access in this area was sketchy at best and she hoped it wouldn't go away. She stared out the window as she waited for the information to process.

The early morning darkness was fading to a dull gray as the sunlight skimmed through the clouds. She watched Dave as he stood at the edge of the grass his eyes surveying the surrounding area.

Her mouth watered and her heart skipped a beat as she stared at him. He was wearing a tight fitting pair of faded blue jeans and her favorite burgundy button down shirt. The wind ruffled his neatly coifed hair as he clutched the crudely drawn map in his left hand. On his right hip he wore his service weapon. She shuddered as she instantly recalled the events of the previous night. He was lucky he hadn't been seriously hurt. They had barely started on this case and she was wishing it was over. Wishing that she and Dave were on vacation not hunting down a killer.

'Whoa!' she thought. 'She and Dave on vacation? Together? Definitely not likely to happen.'

Sure, when they had awoken this morning they had been wrapped around each other like they had been sleeping together for years but he had been comforting her after a traumatic situation. That's all it was, right? And just because he had been rubbing her back as she slept it didn't mean he liked her he would have done that with any woman, right? Her heart ached at the thought.

"Any luck?" Dave asked startling her from her thoughts. He had moved from the edge of the grass to peer through her open window while she hadn't noticed.

"Are you kidding me? I'm having a hard time connecting to the internet let alone actually retrieving information," she snorted.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought you were a miracle worker."

She laughed. "Sweetness you have me confused with Mr. Scott from Star Trek. I am the Oracle of Knowledge not a miracle worker."

He grinned at her. "Either way we need to move."

"I thought you said this was the spot," she reminded him.

"It is," he replied. "Sylvia's body was found over there."

He pointed to a wooded area behind the playground and to the left of the picnic area.

"The other victims were found somewhere farther in the park," he told her. "We need to go up the road where there is supposed to be a service road on the right hand side. The other victims were found near the end of that road."

She started typing on her laptop. "I will shut down my baby since it is not working very well anyway and we can be off."

Dave took the time to circle the car and climb into the drivers' seat. They left the parking lot and drove deeper into the park leaving the well manicured area behind them they entered an area used only by hikers, bikers and nature lovers. After several minutes they found the service road. The entrance was blocked by a metal gate that appeared to be locked. There was room to go around the gate but they would need to drive over the cement curb.

"Maybe we could walk up there," Garcia suggested.

He turned his head to look at her. "According to the map this road is located about fifty feet from the picnic area considering that the squiggly line indicating this road is a lot longer than that are you sure you want to walk?"

"Well when you put it that way…"

"I'm not walking," he muttered.

"How is your knee?" she asked.

"Sore but I'll live," he replied as he shifted the car into reverse and began to back up. He turned the wheel and eased the car to the curb.

Penelope tightened her seatbelt and clutched her laptop to her chest as the car began to rise over the curb. The front wheels lowered to the ground the car moved forward and she could hear scrapping sounds coming from under the vehicle. She closed her eyes and hoped that they wouldn't get stuck either on the curb or in the grass as they made their way to the service road. She felt the back of the car lift over the curb before it too settled into the grass. Dave deftly moved the car to the gravel and up the road.

"You can breathe and open your eyes now," Dave smirked.

She let out the breathe she was holding and looked around. They were surrounded by trees and brush. The road slowly elevated as they continued forward for about half a mile. The road ended at a turn around and Penelope wondered what in the world the park people were servicing from this road as it went to absolutely nothing. Dave turned the car around before putting it into park and shutting off the engine.

"Are you coming?" he asked as he opened his door and got out.

Penelope looked around for a moment before answering. "I don't think so."

"Suit yourself," he replied as he closed the door.

She watched as he walked through the small patch of grass and disappeared into the trees. She opened her laptop and booted it back up. Surprisingly the internet service was more responsive from this area and she was quickly accessing the information she wanted from Brian Mather's juvenile records.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Ok guys," Hotch said as he walked into the conference room off the bullpen and looked at the white board. Half of the board was now covered in pictures of Dave and Garcia. He shook his head as he set his briefcase down. "I spoke to Kevin this morning; he was able to determine that Garcia had accessed information regarding the Mathers homicide and another case that he has yet to figure out."

"A second homicide?" Morgan asked.

"Possibly," Hotch answered with a nod. "Morgan I want you to go to the park where Sylvia's body was found."

"I was just there yesterday," Morgan protested.

"I know that," Hotch stated cutting him off. "I want you to see if Dave's been there. Prentiss, I want you to go back to the hospital. Stay there until you can talk to Detective Carlton. Also try to find out if Dave received medical attention there or at any other facility in the area. I want to know if he's hurt."

Emily nodded and reached for a pen and notepad from the table. "I'll call Kevin and get a list of phone numbers."

Hotch nodded then turned to Reid. "Stay here and go through all of the homicide records from ten to fifteen years ago. If Dave has a second case it has to tie in somehow to the Mathers case. Let me know what you find out."

"What are you going to do?" Morgan asked.

Hotch smiled tightly. "I'm going to canvas all the hotels and motels in the area and see if I can find where they are staying."

"Good luck with that," Emily muttered as she clutched her notepad to her breast.

"Thanks," Hotch replied dryly. The team began to file out until Hotch stopped them. "Morgan!"

The younger man turned and looked at him.

"If you find them, keep it low key. See if Dave will talk to you. Tell him we are trying to stall as long as we can and see if we can help with anything."

Morgan frowned. "You don't want me to bring them in?"

Hotch shook his head. He turned around and pointed at the picture of Sylvia Mathers. "She deserves closure. Let's give it to her."

"What about Strauss?" Emily asked.

"Let me worry about that," Hotch muttered.

The team looked at each for a moment before heading out silently to complete their assigned tasks.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Penelope was practically bouncing in her seat when Dave returned to the car. "Have I got something for you my profiler extraordinaire," she announced with a grin.

"Tell me before you explode," he instructed impassively.

"Brian Mathers was a major juvenile delinquent," she began her hands flying across her keyboard. "Multiple complaints of animal cruelty, he was accused of starting three fires, he was caught twice sneaking into the girls locker room in high school and he spent six months on probation for burglary."

"Any problems after he turned eighteen?" Dave asked.

"Not a thing," Penelope replied. "It's like he woke up and became a model citizen. Maybe Daddy threatened to ship him off to Siberia."

"Either that or he learned how to hide his delinquency," Dave mused.

"Now what? Did you find anything?"

"I think so. When you go into the woods it slopes down for about two hundred feet then stops abruptly at a rock wall," he explained. "I'm pretty certain that was the dump site. The area matches the crime scene photos and there were some bits of caution tape still hanging around a tree."

"Do you think the killer carried the bodies into the woods?"

He shook his head. "No. I know you don't like looking at the crime scene photos so I won't subject you to them…"

"Thank you," she cut in.

He smiled and continued. "The victims' bodies looked hinky."

"Hinky?" she laughed. "Have you been hanging out with Abby Sciutto?"

"Who?" he frowned.

She laughed. "She works at NCIS and believe me you would remember her."

"Is she hot?"

"Not by your standards," she stated.

"So she doesn't look like you?"

"Oh no," she laughed and tried not to blush. "Abby and I would never be confused for one another."

"Well then I'm not interested."

"Good," she muttered. "Anyway, you were saying? The bodies looked hinky?"

"Contorted would be a better description." He sat and stared out the front window.

"What are you thinking?" she inquired.

"I'm thinking the killer didn't come into the park," he told her.

"Then how did the bodies get here?"

"He dropped them from the cliff into the trees," he announced. "That would explain the post mortem cuts, scratches and broken bones. Can you find out who owns the property that borders the park?"

She harrumphed. "In my sleep."

He looked at her and smirked. "Is that what you were doing last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your hands kept straying," he teased.

"You should talk," she scoffed as she typed on her computer.

"I wasn't asleep. I knew exactly where my hands were going."

"Huh," she said inquisitively as her computer beeped. "This is interesting. That property is owned by Congressman Owen Mathers."

He leaned over the center console sliding his arm behind her as he peered at her laptop. She showed him a map from the assessor's office which showed the property lines for the entire county. She pulled up another screen and began typing again.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Trying to think faster than you," she replied. "I'm pulling up the employment records of the staff for the Congressman and then I will cross reference for criminal records."

"Good girl," he murmured as he moved closer and pressed his lips to her temple.

She stopped typing to look at him. "You're distracting me," she whispered.

"Am I?" he asked while holding her gaze. They stared at each other for several minutes.

"Please," she begged softly.

"Please what?" he asked.

"Kiss me or stop teasing," she choked out.

He held her gaze for another moment before he dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers. He kissed her for several seconds before pulling back.

"I've wanted to do that for along time," he admitted.

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"How long," she asked hopefully.

He grinned at her. "Type, Kitten. We'll talk about us later."

She fought the grin that was threatening to split her face as she turned back to her computer and began typing again. She was aware that he was watching her while she worked.

"I have one hit," she said after several minutes.

"Who?"

"Thomas Birman," she said. "He was the gardener. Spent time in jail for assault and attempted rape. I'm getting his current address now."

"Ok." He shifted behind the wheel and started the car. "Does the Congressman have a house on this property?"

"Yeah. It looks like the entrance is from the main road."

"Let's go see if anyone is home," he said. "Are you ready?"

She jotted a note on a piece of paper. "Yep."

He put the car in drive as she put away her laptop. They drove back to the main road eased over the curb and headed for the exit. As they exited the last curve and approached the parking area Dave slowed the car down.

"What are you doing?" Penelope asked.

"Duck down," he ordered.

Penelope loosened her seat belt and slid down in her seat.

"David?"

"An FBI SUV just pulled into the park," he explained quickly. Dave continued past the parking lot entrance and headed for the exit. The SUV was getting closer and he could see the driver. "It's Morgan."


	6. Looking into the Past

Dave pulled the car up the gravel driveway and parked directly in front of the entryway to the house. He put the car in park, shut off the engine and reached for the door handle.

Penelope laid a hand on his arm forestalling his exit from the car. "What if no one is home? I mean, didn't you say the Congressman was in DC?"

Dave nodded. "Someone is here," he stated with confidence. "The yard is well maintained, there is a car in front of the garage and I think I saw a curtain move on the second floor."

She stared at him mouth agape.

"What?" he asked.

"You noticed all of that in the seconds it took to pull into the driveway?"

He grinned. "All of that and I also noticed you keep staring at me."

She grinned cheekily at him. "Well, you are hot! It's hard to keep my eyes off of you."

Laughing, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You're welcome to look at me all you want," he told her.

They climbed out of the car and approached the front door as it opened. Dave cautiously moved Penelope behind him and lowered his hand to his side near his weapon. A short woman with gray hair wearing an apron peered around the partially opened door.

"Can I help you?" she asked quietly.

Dave reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open and showed the woman his badge and identification.

"I'm David Rossi with the FBI," he told her. "Do you live here?"

The woman eyed them suspiciously for a minute before answering. "I'm the housekeeper. The family is not home at this time."

"This is the Mathers residence," Dave stated rather than asked.

The woman nodded. "Yes it is."

Dave smiled warmly. "Have you worked for the family long?"

She nodded. "Almost twenty three years."

"So you knew Sylvia," Dave said carefully.

The woman's eyes widened as she sucked in a breath. "Sylvia?"

Dave nodded. "Yes, we're investigating her murder."

Her eyes darted around the front lawn and she swallowed convulsively. "Maybe you should come inside," she whispered as she stepped back from the doorway.

Dave looked at Penelope and motioned for her to precede him into the house. They stepped into the foyer and waited as the woman closed and locked the door. She motioned for them to follow her as she headed down the hallway to the rear of the house. The residence was eerily quiet as they stepped into the kitchen.

"Please sit down," the woman gestured towards a table in the corner. "Would you like some coffee?"

"If it's no bother," Dave replied and Penelope nodded. "By the way this is my… partner Penelope Garcia."

"Hello," the woman smiled and nodded. "My name is Henrietta Smith. You can call me Henri."

"Everyone calls me Garcia," Penelope replied.

Henri walked over to the table with three mugs of coffee and set them on the table before sitting down. She stared at Dave for a moment before speaking. "Are you really investigating Sylvia's murder?" she whispered. "Does Mr. Mathers know?"

Dave chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah I'm pretty certain he is aware of this investigation."

"He doesn't want it solved," she said conspiratorially. Her eyes welled with tears and she sniffled. "That poor little girl she deserves to be treated better than this."

"What do you mean?" Dave asked.

Henri shrugged. "Her Mother – she wasn't very nice to Sylvia. Mrs. Mathers, she preferred her son Brian and she often would ignore Sylvia. I remember, the night before Sylvia disappeared she and her Mother had a big fight."

"A fight?" Dave repeated. He leaned forward in his chair. "I know it has been a long time since this occurred but do you remember why they were fighting?"

Henri fidgeted with her coffee cup. "Mr. Mathers would be very upset if he knew I was talking to you about this."

Penelope reached across the table and laid her hand on the other woman's hands. "I can tell you cared very much for Sylvia," Penelope said. Henri nodded and Penelope continued. "She deserves to find peace; whoever did this should be caught and punished; for Sylvia."

Henri nodded again. "I'm not completely certain what they were talking about but I am pretty sure it had something to do with Brian. Sylvia was upset about something Brian had done and wanted her parents to do something about it. Mrs. Mathers yelled at her to shut up and I think she even smacked Sylvia."

"Mrs. Mathers hit her daughter?" Dave asked for clarification.

"I think so," Henri replied.

"Did you see any marks on her?" Dave questioned.

Henri shook her head. "Sylvia left with her boyfriend before I could see her."

"Boyfriend?" Dave repeated before he grumbled under his breath. "I need a pen and paper."

Penelope grabbed her purse and pulled out a notepad and a large green pen with tufts of fake hair on the top and handed the items to Dave.

"Really?" Dave asked as he looked at the pen.

Penelope smiled at him. "Don't forget to give me back my pen."

"I'll try not too," he mumbled. He flipped open the notebook and began scribbling earnestly. "Do you remember the name of this boyfriend?"

Henri took a drink of her coffee. "Hmm, let me think about this. Sylvia called him E.T. I think his name was Travers, Evan Travers."

"What time did Sylvia come home?" he asked.

She sniffled as tears welled in her eyes. "She never came home, not that I saw. I never saw her alive again," she cried. She got up from the chair and left the room.

"Let's go get him!" Penelope said vehemently.

"Easy tiger," Dave replied quietly. "We don't go out guns blazing based on the testimony of one witness. We need corroborating statements and a little thing called evidence."

"Fine," she huffed.

He raised his eyes from the notepad and smiled at her. "Don't worry Kitten, we'll find out who is responsible for this and make them pay."

"I know," she pouted. "You always do."

Dave continued to stare at her and his smile widened.

"What?"

"You're beautiful when you're chasing unsubs," he said softly.

A light blush stained her cheeks. "Thanks."

He lowered his eyes to the notebook. "You should know… I think you're beautiful even when you're not chasing unsubs."

"Oh David…"

"I'm sorry," Henri said as she walked back into the room. She carried a tissue in her hand and wiped at her eyes.

"No need to apologize," Dave stated as he rose from his chair.

"Would you like some more coffee?" Henri asked. She walked over to the coffeepot and lifted it from the warmer.

"Yes. Thank you," Dave replied.

Henri refilled all of their mugs before returning the coffeepot to the warmer then they both sat back down.

"I know that this must be very difficult for you," Dave began. "I hope you realize we are not here to cause you any pain we just want to find out the truth."

"I understand," Henri smiled. "And I am very grateful that someone is finally doing something to find Sylvia's killer."

"Can you remember anything else from that night, anything at all?"

Henri thought for a moment and shook her head. "Nothing is coming to mind. I'm sorry."

"That's ok," Dave assured her. "You've been very helpful. Would it be alright if I looked around the house? I promise not to disturb anything."

"You want to look around the house? I don't understand," Henri said. "It has been ten years, what do you expect to find?"

Dave smiled indulgently. "It gives me a little insight to the family especially Sylvia."

"I see," she replied. She rose from her chair and took the mugs to the sink. "Is there anything in particular you would like to see?"

"Nothing in particular but I would like to see everything. If that is ok," he inquired.

She shrugged. "In for a penny in for a pound. If I'm going to get into trouble I might as well make it worth it."

Dave and Penelope followed her through each room on the first floor. In the family room and the office Dave jotted some notes with his fuzzy green pen. They made their way upstairs to the bedrooms. The first door on the right was the Master bedroom.

Henri opened the double doors and allowed Dave and Penelope to step inside. The room was very large, a king sized bed dominated the center, nightstands sat on both sides of the bed. On the right nightstand there were several pictures of a young man with dark hair and a toothy smile. On the left nightstand were two pictures one of the young man and the other Dave recognized as Sylvia Mathers. Dave walked around the room peeking into the closets and the bathroom.

They left the Master bedroom and proceeded across the hall to a smaller bedroom. The walls were covered in posters for rock bands and celebrities. A bookcase dominated one wall and was filled with paperbacks and magazines. Dave glanced into the closet which was still filled with neatly hung dresses, trousers and blouses. An adjoining bathroom sat next to the closet. The counters still held feminine accoutrements; hairbrushes, hair pins, cosmetics and perfumes.

They entered two more bedrooms, which were furnished yet devoid of personal touches, and a guest bathroom before Henri started to lead them back to the staircase.

"What is behind that door," Dave asked pointing to a door at the end of the hall.

"It's an empty room," Henri told him. "It was Brian's room."

"May I see it please?" Dave inquired.

Henri shrugged and led them to the door. She opened the door and allowed them to see inside. The room was empty of all furnishings and personal belongings.

"This was Brian's room?" Dave frowned.

"Yes," Henri acknowledged.

"Where is all of his stuff?" Penelope piped in.

Henri sighed. "Mr. Mathers got rid of it," she whispered conspiratorially.

Dave raised an eyebrow at her.

"He packed up all of Brian's things himself and had the gardener burn them."

"Burn them? Everything?" Dave inquired.

She nodded. "All of his clothes, papers, bedding, the carpet and all of the furniture."

"Why?" Dave asked sounding stunned.

"I'm not certain but I think it was for Mrs. Mathers," Henri stated. "She was extremely upset when Brian died. It was very sad. The poor woman has not been the same she has to have a nurse with her at all times now. I think her sadness has made her heart unwell."

"I see," Dave said slowly. "Do you remember the gardener's name?"

"That would be Mr. Birman. Thomas Birman he is still the gardener here," she stated.

"Any chance we could talk to him?" Dave inquired.

"It's possible," Henri said. "He lives in the cottage behind the garage. I think he's home right now."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Emily walked into the main entrance of the hospital and approached the information desk she was certain that by now the Detective would have been moved into a private room and out of the emergency area. A brief discussion with the woman at the desk confirmed her suspicions and she was soon in the elevator and on her way to the Detective's room. She knocked gently on the door and pushed it open.

"You're here early," Detective Carlton observed. He was sitting up on the hospital bed wearing a gown and attached to several monitors. In front of his was a tray of half eaten breakfast foods.

"The early bird catches the worm or in this case the unsub," she smirked trying to establish a rapport.

He laughed and pushed the tray to the side of the bed.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked.

He shrugged carefully. "I'm better than last night. You guys any closer to finding your delinquent agent?"

"We think so," she said cryptically. She leaned casually against the wall. "We had a slight change in our mission here."

"Oh?" he asked curiously.

She nodded. "We're going to help Dave solve this case."

"I thought you were under orders not to," he queried.

"Yeah well," she chuckled. "We don't always follow orders."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Won't that jeopardize your jobs?"

It was her turn to shrug. "Occupational hazard."

"I see. So now what?"

She crossed her arms. "I need to know what you and Dave were meeting about last night."

He stared at her intently. "We talked about the case, I gave him some crime scene photos and we agreed to stay in touch."

"Which case?" she asked.

He blinked at her.

"We know that there is a second case," she informed him. "We just don't know anything about it yet."

"Really?" Detective Carlton drawled.

She blew out a breath. "You're not going to make this easy for me are you?"

"Am I being difficult?" He frowned. "I'm trying to answer your questions as best as I can."

"What's the other case that Dave is looking at?"

"You'll need to ask him," the detective replied.

"We're trying to help him," she pressed. He sat quietly and stared at her.

She huffed and moved her hands to her hips. "Any information you give us will make that easier."

"I understand your frustration," he said quietly. "I promised Dave that he could trust me and that I would help him anyway I can, I don't know if I can trust you yet."

"What can we do to get you to trust us? I know it's an old case and usually it wouldn't be urgent but you're in this hospital because someone didn't want you talking to Dave. "

He sighed. "We don't why I got shot; could have been some crazy poacher shooting at random in the middle of the night."

"Uh-huh. Well let's try a different track – do you know where they are staying?"

"No," he replied.

"Can you tell me anything about the car they were driving?"

"It was gray, newer, possibly a Camaro but I didn't see it very well," he admitted.

"It's a start," she said with a shake of her head. She pulled out her phone and dialed Hotch's number.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Pulling the SUV to the side of the road Hotch then answered his phone on the second ring. "Yeah Emily."

"They may be driving a gray Camaro," she said without preamble.

"Anything else?"

"Not yet. Detective Carlton is untrusting of our intentions."

"I understand," Hotch stated. "Keep talking to him. I've narrowed my search down to three possible motels."

"Wow! How did you do that?"

"I had Kevin check the computer records of all the hotels and motels in the area and give me a list of those who had cash paying customers in the past twenty four hours," he told her.

"And there were three?"

"Lucky me, huh?" he half smiled. "Call me if you get anything else."

"Ok," she said and they hung up.

He signaled and pulled back onto the road the first motel was a few blocks away and he soon pulled into the parking lot. A quick glance around revealed no gray cars of any make in the lot. He parked in front of the office grabbed his folder with Dave and Penelope's pictures and went inside.

The woman inside was friendly and informative but could not confirm if Dave and Penelope were guests in her motel or not. She was certain that she had not seen any Camaro's in her lot.

He moved on to the next motel which was a little run down and was out of the city limits about three miles. He parked the SUV and grabbed his file. The office door creaked as he opened it and slammed shut behind him. A skinny man with long hair and grubby looking clothes appeared from a back room.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

Hotch pulled out his ID and showed it to the man. "I'm looking for a man and woman who may have stayed here last night," he stated.

"FBI, huh? Are these people murderers or something?" the guy asked curiously.

"Or something," Hotch replied succinctly. He opened the folder revealing the photos of Dave and Pen. "Do you recognize them?"

"Oh yeah," the man nodded. "They were here. I thought there was something funny about them. What did they do?"

"What do you mean funny?" Hotch asked.

"The woman seemed upset that they would have to share a room with a single bed," the man explained. "But then the guy signed them in as husband and wife. Did he kidnap her?"

Hotch ignored the question. "What was the name he signed?"

The man flipped open his registry and peered over the signatures. "Here it is – Tom and Kitten Katz. Funny huh?"

Hotch schooled his features to remain neutral even though he was laughing inside. "Do you know what kind of car they were driving?"

The man grinned. "A big gray Camaro. Nice looking car."

"You wouldn't happen to have the license plate number," Hotch asked.

The man shook his head. "We don't ask for it."

"Are they coming back here?"

"I don't think so," the man replied. "They only paid for one night and I think I heard the guy say they would find someplace else tonight."

Closing his folder Hotch thanked the man and took his leave. He climbed into the SUV and pulled out his phone.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Morgan pulled into the parking lot and shut down the SUV. He stared at the area where Sylvia Mathers' body had been discovered wishing he was somewhere else. The case was so old that there was nothing here that would help them solve this case. He understood Hotch's reason for sending him to the park again but that didn't mean he liked it. He started to exit the SUV when his phone rang.

"Morgan."

"Hey," Hotch said in greeting. "We have confirmation that they are driving a gray Camaro."

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," Morgan groaned.

"What's wrong?"

"There was a gray Camaro leaving the park when I pulled in. I didn't even look to see who was driving," Morgan admitted.

"I'll bet you anything that Dave saw you," Hotch teased.

"I'm not taking that bet," Morgan said sternly. "What do you want me to do now?"

"Stay there until we hear from Reid," Hotch ordered. "Emily is talking to Detective Carlton but he is not opening up about Dave and this other case. I'm going to head back to the police station."

"Alright," Morgan agreed reluctantly. He slid out of the SUV and slammed the door shut as he hung up the phone.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Spencer sat at the table and opened the second box of files. He pulled out the first folder and flipped through the pages. The police department had a computer file of cases but Spencer wasn't as computer friendly as most people his age. He preferred the old method of pen and paper; all of his reports were handwritten. Fortunately, Dr. Spencer Reid could process just as fast sometimes faster than a computer.

He put the folder back into the box and grabbed another folder opened it and began reading. He stopped skimming and closely read the report. The M.O. was similar to Sylvia Mathers murder but what really caught his attention was where the body had been found. The location was the same park where Sylvia had been found.

He placed the file on the desk and grabbed another one from the box. There were a total of three boxes of homicides from the time period Hotch had requested and it took Spencer less than an hour to read each file. When he was done he had a small pile of files on the desk. He placed the third box on the floor and reached for his phone.

"Hotch I think we have a serial killer here," he said when the older agent answered the phone.

"What did you find?" Hotch asked.

"I found seven women who were killed in a similar fashion to Sylvia Mathers," Spencer told him. "The more important thing is that all of the bodies were found in the same park as Sylvia Mathers."

"Do you know where in the park they were found?" Hotch asked.

"There are some rough sketches in the files I think I can relate them to a map of the park and give us a general idea," Spencer stated.

"Do it then call Morgan and let him know," Hotch ordered. "I found the hotel Dave and Penelope stayed in last night and we know what kind of car they are driving. Emily is still trying to get information out of Detective Carlton. I'll call her and let her know what you found."


	7. Discoveries

Dave and Penelope followed Henri back down the stairs and towards the rear of the house. As Henri reached for the back door Dave stopped her.

"Before we go see Mr. Birman I'd like to ask you a few more questions," Dave stated softly.

"Ok," Henri replied as she moved towards the kitchen. They settled at the table again. Dave studied his notes for a moment gathering his thoughts.

"I'm just going to recap a few things first," Dave told them. "You said that Sylvia and her Mother had an argument and that Mrs. Mathers may have hit her daughter. Then Sylvia left with her boyfriend… Evan Travers and she didn't come home that night."

"That's right," Henri nodded.

"How long was it before you found out she was dead?"

Henri sucked in a shuddery breath. "It was late afternoon the next day."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

She nodded in response. Her hands were folded tightly together on the table, her knuckles pale white. "I was working here, in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Mr. Mathers yelled from the front room that he would answer the door. I heard several voices talking as Mr. Mathers invited them into the house. I went to the front room to see if any refreshments were needed but I stopped in the doorway. Mr. Mathers was sitting on the edge of Mrs. Mathers' chair holding her hand as two police officers were talking to them. I thought it was unusual."

"Police officers don't normally visit uninvited," Dave nodded.

"No," Henri disagreed. "I thought it unusual that Mr. Mathers was sitting so close to Mrs. Mathers and holding her hand. They weren't they type to engage in open displays of affection."

"I see," Dave said as he made a note in his notebook. "What else happened?"

"Mr. Mathers noticed me in the doorway, he excused himself from the room took me to the kitchen and told me Sylvia was dead," she stated softly as she wiped at the tears forming in her eyes. "Mr. Mathers held me as I cried. He was of great comfort to me during that time."

"How did Mrs. Mathers take the news?" Dave asked.

She shook her head slowly. "I'm not sure. After the police left she went upstairs and stayed mostly in her room."

"Where was Brian when this was taking place?"

"I don't know," she replied. She thought for a moment. "He had gone out somewhere. He was frequently gone for long periods of time never more than two or three days. When he came back he would sit with his Mother or lock himself in his room."

"Was he seeing someone?" Dave questioned.

"You mean did he have a girlfriend?"

Dave nodded.

"Oh no," Henri denied. "Mrs. Mathers wouldn't allow that."

"She wouldn't allow her grown son to have a girlfriend?" Penelope asked.

Henri shook her head. "I think she was afraid he would leave her. She seemed more upset about Brain going to a mental hospital than Sylvia being killed."

"Why did Brian end up in the mental hospital?" Dave asked.

"When he returned from wherever he had been Mr. Mathers told him he needed to stay home. Brian was very upset about this. In fact he got very angry which was not normal at all," Henri pointed out. "Brian was always a calm and quiet boy. I think Mr. Mathers was afraid that Brian would do something bad."

"Something bad?" Dave inquired.

She nodded. "And he did, didn't he?" she replied with a sob. "He ended up killing himself."

"Were he and Sylvia close?"

She smiled fondly. "They were practically inseparable when they were young. They spent most of their time playing together and hanging out. Their relationship didn't change until Brian went off to college."

"That's normal," Dave stated as he wrote in the notebook. "Older children don't want to be around their younger siblings anymore."

"It was because of Mrs. Mathers," Henri stated. "She became very possessive of Brian when he came home. She refused to let him get his own place or get a job!"

"What did Mr. Mathers say about that?"

She shrugged. "He was gone to Washington DC most of the time so I guess he was happy that there was a man in the house to look after things. Even though…"

"Yes?" Dave prompted as she hesitated.

"I got the feeling that Mr. Mathers… wasn't Brian's father," she announced.

Dave watched her for several seconds before speaking. "Why do you think that?"

She shrugged. "It was a feeling, you know? There was never anything said but… the feeling was there."

"Did Mrs. Mathers see other men? Was she having an affair?" Dave questioned.

"Not when I got here," Henri answered. "She rarely left the estate. The children they were six and ten when I started here so I don't know anything about the Mathers' life before the children were around."

"I see," Dave smiled. He made a few notes in his notebook then handed the pen to Penelope. "Thank you for talking with us and showing us around. I would appreciate it if you told me how to find Mr. Birman."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Thomas Birman was a tall, muscular black man with a receding hairline that had turned mostly gray. Henri had accompanied Dave and Penelope to the gardeners' house and made the introductions emphasizing the fact that they were investigating Sylvia's murder. Henri excused herself and headed back to the main house. Mr. Birman grudgingly allowed them into his home, they settled onto the older faded blue couch as he sat on a facing recliner.

"I don't know why you're talking to me," he grunted. He had a deep yet gentle voice that carried across the room even though he had spoken softly. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You're not being accused of anything," Dave pointed out. "I am aware of your previous criminal activities, however, at the moment I'm more interested in something you did for Congressman Mathers."

"I do a lot of things for the Congressman. Is there something in particular you wanted to ask about?"

Dave flipped through the notebook in his hand. "Ms. Smith mentioned that the Congressman had you burn all of his sons' possessions, is that correct?"

"She told you that?" Thomas asked angrily.

"You have a problem with it?" Dave replied carefully. He shifted to the front of the couch dropping his right hand casually to his side.

Thomas scowled at Dave for a few moments before he let out a breath and sat back in his chair. "The Congressman is going to be very upset when he finds out we talked to you."

"Henri said that too," Dave snorted. "So about this bonfire…"

"What about it?" Thomas countered. "I took the stuff, I set it on fire. End of story."

"When did he have you do this?" Dave questioned. "Was it after Brian died?"

Thomas snorted. "Hell no! It was about a week after Sylvia died. Mr. Mathers took Brian to the mental hospital then came home and packed up all of Brian's stuff."

"Did he say why?"

Thomas shrugged. "I didn't ask."

Dave tapped Penelope on the leg and made a motion with his hand. She picked up her purse fished out the green fuzzy pen and handed it to him. Dave took the pen and started scribbling in his notebook again.

"Was there anything unusual about Brian's stuff?" Dave asked.

"Unusual?"

"Did it smell funny? Was anything discolored?" Dave probed.

Thomas shook his head. "Most everything was inside boxes. I didn't dig through the boxes."

"Really? You didn't take a peek just to see what was inside?" Dave pressed.

Thomas shifted in his chair. "Maybe two or three of the boxes."

"What did you find?"

"The usual teenage crap – clothes, books, papers. Nothing of much interest." Thomas replied.

"You didn't keep anything?"

"No. I did not," Thomas denied strongly. He sat forward in his chair and put both hands on his knees.

"But you thought about it," Dave continued.

"Sure! I thought about it but I changed my mind." He stood up and paced back and forth across the room a couple of times before settling onto the chair again. "Listen, back then I was a different man."

"Weren't we all," Dave muttered.

The man continued ignoring Dave's interruption. "I was out of jail for six months when Mr. Mathers gave me this job. I was still angry at the world and not very forgiving of people. However, Mr. Mathers and his daughter treated me like I was a normal person. I knew when he asked me to burn that stuff that something was going on and I was tempted to find something I could use as blackmail."

"And did you?" Dave questioned harshly.

Thomas took a moment to catch his breath before continuing. "Like I said, the boxes were full of clothes, books and random papers. I only looked through two or three boxes before I decided it wasn't worth it. I had a good job, for good people who were going through a rough time in their lives. I couldn't bring myself to make it worse."

"How did you find out about Sylvia's death?" Dave asked.

Thomas growled. "The police told me. After they handcuffed me and took me to the police station."

"They questioned you about her death?"

"Interrogated you mean." Thomas sighed. "I understand why they thought I was responsible for her death – an ex-con living so close; of course I was a suspect. But Mr. Mathers he stood up for me. He insisted that I was innocent."

"Are you?" Dave drawled.

"Of murder? Absolutely. I've been clean since I got out of jail."

"I remember," Dave nodded. "You've become a model citizen."

"Maybe not that good," Thomas laughed.

Dave smiled in return. "Is there anything you can tell me from that night? Did you see Sylvia leave?"

Thomas nodded. "Yeah and I saw her when she came back."

"She came back?" Dave asked masking the surprise in his voice. "What time was this?"

Thomas thought for moment. "It was pretty late, probably after three I think."

"Are you sure she came back that night?" Dave pressed.

"Oh yeah. She was dropped off by that boyfriend of hers."

"Evan Travers?" Dave cut in.

Thomas shrugged. "I don't know his name. I remember he had a muscle car with a bad muffler. Thing was noisier than a freight train and he always kept his music turned up as loud as possible. It woke me up every time they pulled into the driveway."

"And you're certain that Sylvia didn't leave again?"

Thomas nodded again. "I got up to yell at the boy not that it would have done any good but it made me feel better. Sylvia was already halfway into the house and the little shithead was pulling out of the driveway by the time I got outside."

"Did you see Sylvia again?"

"Not alive," Thomas admitted. "I went with Mr. Mathers to the morgue to identify the body."

"Tell me about the night before Sylvia was killed," Dave told him.

Thomas took a deep breath and let it out before answering. "There's not much to tell."

"What time did Sylvia leave?" Dave asked.

"It was after seven I had already finished dinner but it wasn't close to nine," Thomas surmised. "So somewhere between seven and eight."

"What happens at nine?" Dave frowned.

"I go to bed," Thomas replied succinctly.

"Did you happen to get a close look at Sylvia? Did she look okay?"

Thomas made a face. "I didn't look at her closely but she looked like she normally did."

"No marks on her face?"

Thomas shook his head. "What kind of marks? I don't understand the relevance of these questions."

"Did Mr. Mathers ever tell you why Brian was going to the mental hospital?" Dave continued.

Thomas snorted. "He was nice to me but I wasn't his best friend. Other than telling me to burn all of the boys stuff he didn't talk to me about it again."

"You said Mr. Mathers and his daughter treated you nice, what about his wife and son?"

Thomas snorted in amusement. "Mrs. Mathers rarely left the house. When she did, she didn't hang out to talk to the gardener. And Brian? He was… he was different."

"Different how?"

Thomas shrugged. "He was really quiet, kept to himself when he was home. He spent a lot of time with his Mother."

"Did he have a girlfriend?"

Thomas looked skeptical. "I don't think so. He spent most of his free time at the cabin."

"What cabin?"

"On the back edge of the property," Thomas said waving his hand. "There's an old hunting cabin out there that he liked to go to."

"I'd like to see this cabin," Dave stated. "Can you tell me how to get there?"

Thomas shrugged again. "If you drive, I'll take you there."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Morgan drove the SUV further into the park following the directions Reid had given him. 'Leave it to Dave to uncover a serial killer,' he thought. He drove around a curve and saw the service road on the right hand side. The entryway was blocked by a gate so he pulled to the side of the road and parked the SUV. Sliding out of the SUV he noted that the area was covered with trees and underbrush; the perfect place to hide a body or two.

He approached the gate and spotted fresh tires tracks on the grass and what appeared to be a scrape mark on the concrete curb. There were multiple sets of tracks leading him to believe that either multiple vehicles went in or one vehicle went in and out. His gut told him it was the latter and that the vehicle had been a gray Camaro. His adrenaline began to pick up as he realized they were closing in on Dave and Penelope. The old man was losing his touch.

He decided to follow Dave's lead and drive over the curb rather than waste time trying to find someone who could unlock the gate. He jogged back to the SUV and climbed inside. "Time for the real fun to begin," he muttered to himself.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hotch walked quickly up the hallway to the room where Detective Carlton was resting. He knocked once on the door before pushing it open and stepping inside. The Detective was asleep. Emily who had been sitting in the chair stood as he came in and motioned him back into the hallway.

"Anything new," Hotch asked.

She shook her head. "He seems to be rather loyal to Dave. He keeps saying if we want information we should just ask Dave."

The corner of his mouth rose just slightly. "What does he want us to do, call him?"

"That's an idea," Emily blinked.

Hotch stared at her blankly and waited for her to continue.

"You said that the detective was talking to Dave on his cell phone when we arrived, we can get Dave's number from the Carlton's' cell phone. It's still in evidence at the station."

Hotch sighed. "I'll have Reid check it out. Did you follow up on Dave's injuries?"

She nodded. "Other than the detective, there were no shooting victims in any of the area hospitals or medical facilities last night or this morning."

"So he probably was not hurt," Hotch sighed. "That's good news. Let's see if Detective Carlton knows anything about this possible serial killer."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Penelope crawled into the back of the car to allow Mr. Birman to give Dave directions more easily. Dave maneuvered the car out of the driveway turning left at the road. About half a mile down the road he turned left again onto a barely visible dirt road. Shrubs and low hanging trees scraped the sides and top of the car causing the three of them to wince from the noise.

"The road hasn't been used in a while," Thomas said in apology.

"It's ok," Dave said with a wince as a thick branch slide across the roof. "It's not my car."

They followed the road to a clearing where a small cabin was nestled amongst a copse of trees. Dave shut off the engine and they all climbed out of the car. Dave held Penelope's hand assisting her from the backseat before he began looking around.

Dave stood for a moment just taking in the area. The left side of the road was covered in trees, shrubs and tall grasses. The right side of the road opened into a clearing about 50 yards deep stopping at the edge of the cliff. Dave stared at the cliff edge for a moment before turning away and walking towards the cabin.

"Stay out here," Dave ordered as Thomas and Penelope started to follow.

"You think there's a bad guy in there?" Penelope asked.

Dave turned to look at her. "I don't know what is in there but I would prefer it not be disturbed by three people especially when two of them don't know how to process a crime scene."

"Crime scene?" Thomas laughed. "What do you think Brian was doing out here?"

Dave gave him a hard look. "Do me a favor and wait by the car."

"David?" Penelope asked in a small voice. She clung to his arm.

"Come stand by the door Kitten," he said reassuringly.

Thomas walked away from the pair and leaned against the car facing the cliff edge while Penelope followed Dave to the cabin. As they reached the doorway Dave turned around to look at Penelope. He grabbed her right hand with his left then pressed something cold and heavy into it with his right hand.

She looked down and gasped. "David!"

"Just hold onto it," he said quietly.

"You know I don't like guns," she reminded him.

"Yes and I don't trust our new friend," he told her. "Don't flash it around but don't put it away either. Capisce?"

She grinned at him. "I love it when you talk in your native language."

"English?" he frowned. She continued to smile at him as he pulled a pair of rubber gloves out of his pocket and began putting them on.

"You carry rubber gloves in your pocket?"

"Papa always said never go out without protection," he told her.

She laughed. "I don't think that's the rubbers your Father warned you about. Now about your native language…"

"Honestly, Emily speaks more Italian than I do," he said cutting her off.

"And I speak none so you could recite the alphabet and I wouldn't know the difference."

He snorted. "That's something else for us to discuss later. Stay by the door and tell me if you see something hinky."

"There's that word again," she muttered as he opened the door and looked inside.

Dave pulled a small penlight from his back pocket and turned it on. The cabin had only the main room which held a table, two chairs, several wooden boxes and a twin sized metal bed. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. Dave waved the light across the floor before stepping inside he slowly moved around the room starting on the left of the door and moving around the edge of the room.

He stopped at the bed. The mattress was wearing thin rodents and insects were chewing holes into the sides and top. Two large brownish stains covered the middle section. Dave peered closely at them before moving to the head and foot rails. He shone his light on a corner of the head rail where some fibers were sticking out. He looked under the bed his light flashing on a half inch thick piece of rope.

Leaving the bed he moved over to the wooden boxes. He opened the first box and shone the light inside. It was piled full of clothing: feminine clothing. Dave reached down and picked up the top garment. Further examination revealed a lime green sundress size 3. He moved it to the side and grabbed the next garment a pair of blue jeans size 7. As he looked through the contents he realized that none of the garments belonged to the same woman and all of them were too small to fit Brian Mathers.

He closed the lid on the first box and opened the second. Inside was a coil of rope, a knife and a digital camera. Dave picked up the camera and pushed the on button, nothing happened. He closed the lid keeping the camera. The third box was empty so that was shut as well. A few more minutes of perusing the interior and he was done. He stepped out on the porch where Penelope was trying to be nonchalant about holding a gun and leaning against the wall.

"Ooh for me," she squealed as she caught sight of the camera. She moved to grab the camera but Dave held it out of her reach. He took his gun from her flailing hand and secured in the holster on his hip.

"No touching," he growled.

She pouted. "But I'm the Gadget Queen."

"Yes you are," he conceded. "But there may be prints on this and I don't want them compromised."

"And how do you plan on retrieving those prints?" she asked. "Did you find anything else in there? Can I go in now?"

"I have a print kit in the car," he murmured. He stepped off the porch and headed for the car with Penelope right behind him.

"What else did you find?" she pressed.

"Later Kitten," he said softly. At the car, he opened the trunk and placed the camera inside his go bag. He closed the trunk and wandered over to the cliff edge with Penelope and Thomas following.

"Find anything interesting?" Thomas asked.

Dave shrugged. "Did anyone else come out here? Maybe the Congressman?"

Thomas shook his head. "Mr. Mathers rarely had time to lie about at a cabin. Brian only knew about it because his Grandfather would bring him here."

"How did you know about it?" Dave questioned as he looked around. "It's not like the area is maintained."

"Brian got his car stuck in the mud during a rainstorm," Thomas explained patiently. "He walked home, found me and I came back here with my truck and pulled him out. You can still see the tracks over there."

Dave glanced over towards the cabin near the trees where he could make out several deep ruts in the dirt and grass. He nodded and peered over the edge of the cliff. There was someone in the trees below him. He watched as the person moved around in the area where the dead women had been found. After several minutes the person moved into a clear spot and looked up.

"Dave," Morgan yelled. "Wait!"

"What do you want Morgan?" Dave yelled back as he knelt down.

"Morgan is down there?" Penelope squeaked. She scooted closer to the edge placing her hand on Dave's shoulder as she peered over.

"Hey!" Dave protested as he nearly fell over.

"Baby Girl, you get back from there," Morgan scolded. "Dave, I just want to talk to you man."

"So talk," Dave replied. He looked over at Thomas who was also peering over the edge.

"We want to help," Morgan pleaded. "Meet up with me."

"You want to help? Go home," Dave told him.

"We can't do that," Morgan said shaking his head. "And you know that."

"I'm not going to meet with you," Dave said firmly.

"We're closing in on you man, if we catch you Strauss is going to want you home."

Dave laughed. "You have to catch me first."

"What makes you think Hotch isn't coming up behind you right now?" Morgan asked.

Dave shook his head. "Because you don't know where this place is yet. Besides, Hotch is either at the hospital or the police station trying to figure out what I'm doing. Reid is at the station working on a profile and Emily is with Hotch. And… Kevin isn't good enough to keep up with us. Since Garcia is here with me, you guys are way behind. How did I do?"

Morgan shook his head and laughed. "Apparently better than us. You got us tapped or something?"

Dave smiled. "You're too predictable. I've worked with you long enough to know what each of you are going to do and when. You group think too much."

"You're one of us Dave," Morgan reminded him.

Dave nodded. "I am but I'm also use to working alone, thinking on my own and making quick decisions. I've changed my habits to work with the team but I still know how to work alone. I'm good at it."

"Well at least you're not shy," Morgan laughed.

"Who is that?" Thomas asked.

"Another agent," Dave said as he looked over at the black man.

Thomas frowned. "He's trying to catch you? I don't understand."

Dave sighed. "It's a long story. Just remember we're all the good guys and we're here to help."

"Dave?" Morgan yelled again from below.

A gunshot rang out and Thomas fell to the ground. Dave grabbed Penelope and pulled her quickly to the back of the car as another shot rang out.

Morgan pulled out his gun and scanned the tree line above him. He muttered a curse at his inability to see Dave and Garcia when he spotted a flash of muzzle fire in the trees. He aimed and fired hoping to distract the shooter long enough to allow Dave and Penelope to escape. He watched as a body fell from the tree.

"Dave!" he yelled again. "Penelope?"

He waited a few seconds to see if either of them would reappear before running back to his SUV. He pulled out his cell phone while rapidly driving down the gravel covered road.

"Hey Morgan," Reid greeted happily. "I'm still going over the profile."

"Forget that kid," Morgan said rapidly. "There's a ledge over the spot where the bodies were found, I need to know how to get there."

"That's going to take a minute, hold on."

"I don't have a minute," Morgan barked. He cursed as the SUV bounced over the curb the tires squealed as he hit pavement and floored the gas pedal. "Dave and Penelope are up there and someone is shooting at them again."

Morgan could hear papers rustling over the phone. "Have you called Hotch?"

"What do you think? How do I get up there?"

"I don't know. It's not on the map," Reid replied worriedly.

"Figure it out and call me," Morgan ordered as he hung up the phone. He tossed the phone on the dashboard then flipped on the lights and siren as he sped through the exit gate turning left.


	8. The Razor's Edge

Dave grabbed Penelope's arm and dragged to the rear of their car. He pushed her down to the ground and pulled the gun out of his holster. Peering around the car he tried to spot the shooter but he couldn't see anyone. He felt her arms wrap around his right leg and winced as she squeezed tightly.

"Kitten that's my bad leg," he reminded her gently.

She loosened her grip but didn't stop crying.

Dave reached down and tried to remove her from his leg. "Honey I need you to let go."

"No!"

"I need to check on Birman," he told her. "He's been hit."

"Oh hell no," she cried as she tightened her grip again.

"Baby please, the man could be dying."

"I don't care," she growled. "Some crazy is shooting at us again there is no way I am letting you go!"

"If you don't let go, he could sneak up and kill us both," he tried to reason with her.

She slowly loosened her grip on his leg and he was able to move away from her. Ignoring the pain in his knee he ran over to the black man and slid down beside him.

"Thomas," he said sharply as his hand searched for a pulse. His hand encountered a sticky wetness and as he pulled it back he saw that it was covered in blood. He scanned the wooded area from his new viewpoint and still could not spot anyone.

'Did the shooter leave?' he wondered. 'Or move to a new location?'

He took a chance and stood up bracing for an impact that never came. He hustled back to Penelope and pulled her up from the ground.

"Get in the car," he ordered.

"Is that blood?" she asked staring at his hand.

He wiped it absently on his leg. "It's not mine," he said. "Let's go."

He guided her to the passenger seat slamming the door closed then getting in behind the wheel. He sped down the dirt road turning left when he hit the pavement gunning the engine even more.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hotch and Emily walked into the police station and stopped in shock. Spencer Reid was running around in circles with a map in his hand and his cell phone pressed to his ear.

"I'm telling you Morgan! There are no roads that parallel that ridge," Spencer stated his voice edged in fear and exasperation. Spencer pushed a box of files onto the floor, plopped the map book onto the table and flipped through the book.

"I'm looking at the map right now."

He paused. "No it is not upside down. I know how to read a map!"

Hotch moved closer to the younger man. "Reid," he said forcefully. "What's going on?"

Spencer looked up and visibly relaxed. "Morgan is trying to get to the top of a ridge where apparently Dave and Garcia are located; they are being shot at again."

Hotch reached out a hand. "Give me the phone," he ordered.

Spencer handed over the phone and bent over the map again.

"Morgan?" Hotch said into the receiver. "Where are you? What's going on?"

"I'm driving up the road behind the park," Morgan said hastily. "I was talking to Dave, he was on the ridge above me and then someone started shooting at them again. I think I hit the guy."

"You shot someone!"

Emily, Reid and the officers in the station stopped and looked at Hotch.

"I was defending Dave and Garcia," Morgan replied.

Hotch took a breath to collect himself. "I'm going to give you back to Reid. Emily and I are heading your direction. I'll call Kevin and see if he can help find that road."

"Ok," Morgan stated shortly. "I'll call Emily if I find the road."

Hotch handed the phone to Reid then preceded Emily out the door.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

In the SUV Morgan flew up the road passing an estate on his left he kept his eyes open for a road that would lead him to Dave and Penelope. He slammed on the brakes as realized there was a gap in the trees and tracks leading into the woods.

"I think I found it," Morgan announced into the phone. "Call Emily, tell her there is a gap in the trees on the left side of the road about a half a mile from the first house on this street."

"Ok," Spencer said in his ear. "Be careful."

He slid the vehicle into reverse backed to a point where he could turn into the gap then moved forward hoping he had picked the right spot. Dirt rose from the tires as he sped through the trees he rounded a curve and spotted a cabin sitting in front of him. The SUV was still rocking as he jumped out.

"Dave! Penelope!" he yelled as he surveyed the area gun in hand. He turned toward the trees where he had shot at the sniper. A body lay on the ground unmoving. He hustled over to the body and checked for a pulse. The person was wearing camouflage from head to toe so he couldn't tell who it was. Whoever it was though wouldn't be bothering them again.

Derek moved out of the trees and headed towards the cabin. A black man lay in the dirt near the cliff edge part of his head was missing. He didn't waste his time checking for a pulse. He moved across the dirt track to the cabin the door was open; pulling out his flashlight he peered inside noting one set of shoeprints in the dust.

"Dave! Penelope," he called out even though he knew they weren't inside. The car wasn't here which meant they had already left. He pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial for Hotch.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dave looked over at the sullen woman sitting next to him and wondered not for the first time why he had allowed her to come along. Sure, he wouldn't have gotten as far into this case as he was but then she wouldn't be as upset as she was right now. It was a lose - lose situation. He drove mindlessly for about fifteen minutes before pulling to the side of the road. He shut off the car and reached for Penelope pulling her into his arms. She clung to him and cried.

"I hate this," she sobbed into his chest.

He didn't say 'I told you so'. "It's ok Kitten," he soothed. "It's going to be ok."

"How can you say that?" she asked angrily. She pulled back and smacked his chest with her fist. "People keep getting shot around us. This is a horrible, horrible situation and I should have stayed at home."

Again he quelled the urge to say 'I told you so'. Instead he grabbed her hand to stop her from hitting him again.

"You can say it, you know," she said her voice raspy from the tears as she stared at him warily.

"Say what?" he asked. He pulled her against his chest once more.

"I told you so." Her voice was muffled as she buried her face in his shirt.

"Never, I would never say that to you," he whispered in her hair.

She pulled back to look at him. "Kevin would have."

"I'm not Kevin," he reminded her. He stroked her cheek with his fingertips.

She rolled her eyes. "We'd be dead by now if you were."

He smiled slightly then closed the gap and kissed her. His lips were soft against hers gently caressing and not demanding anything from her. She sighed and twisted in her seat to move closer. They broke apart and she settled against his chest.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked.

"First, we need to figure out where the hell we are," he said. "I'd like to see if there are any pictures on that camera. After that, I'm not sure."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hotch pulled the SUV onto the dirt road the Emily indicated followed closely by a couple of police cruisers. He parked directly behind Morgan's SUV and turned off the engine. The area was well hidden; perfect for someone to hold and torture people and no one would know the difference. Wearily he climbed out of the vehicle and walked to the younger agent.

"You find anything?" he asked with a nod towards the cabin.

"I haven't been inside to look around," Morgan replied. "It looks as though someone was in there recently; my guess is it was Dave."

Hotch nodded and looked around. "Nice place for a serial killer," he murmured.

Emily Prentiss strode over to the two men. "You're going to love this," she announced. The two men focused on her.

"One of the officers identified the man in the trees – he was a retired police sniper."

The three agents stood silently for a moment gathering their thoughts. They stepped closer to each other.

"If he was a retired cop…" Morgan began quietly.

"I know," Hotch replied just as quietly. "We don't know who to trust."

"And Dave and Garcia could be in more trouble than they realize," Emily cut in. They all shared a look their faces set in similar tight expressions.

"Ok," Hotch said breaking the silence. "We need to take complete control of this investigation. Morgan, I want you to process the cabin. Emily and I will control things out here. Emily, search the area around the back and sides of the cabin. I'll take the front and the two dead men. Report what you find only to the three of us." Emily and Morgan nodded and headed out to the respective assignments.

Hotch wandered over to the cliff edge and pulled out his phone. "Reid – I need you to get Detective Carlton's phone out of evidence and check the call log for me."

"What's going on? Did you find Dave?" Reid asked.

"He left before Morgan got here," Hotch replied quietly.

"I've got the phone," Reid announced. "What are we looking for?"

"See if there are any unidentified numbers on there. There should be at least one number that comes up as unidentified."

"I have a number that called in twice yesterday."

"Send it to me from your phone," Hotch ordered.

"Do you want me to call it?" Reid asked.

"If I'm right it is Dave's number," Hotch told him. "And I want to talk to him myself."

"If this is a throw phone he may have already gotten rid of it," Reid pointed out.

"I know," Hotch sighed. "But I need to see if I can get a hold of him. Morgan shot the sniper who was identified by the officers here."

"Who is he?"

Hotch looked around before answering. "Apparently he's a retired police officer."

"Seriously?" Reid replied his voice going up an octave.

Hotch rubbed his forehead with the back of his thumb. "This whole thing is becoming a nightmare."

"I sent you the number. What do you want me to do now?"

"Find out who owns this property. I have a feeling whoever it is; is our serial killer," Hotch speculated. "I'm going to call Dave. I don't have to tell you to keep this to yourself, right?"

Reid chuckled. "No. Even though you just did."

"I'll call you back," Hotch stated before he hung up the phone.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dave had continued to drive up the road they were on eventually finding a cross road that took them back into town. He found a chain restaurant that boasted free wifi and the best pie in town. He parked the car in the back. Before going inside he removed the memory stick from the camera with the help of Penelope's instructions. He placed the camera back in the trunk of the car. Carrying Penelope's computer bag he held her hand and led her into the restaurant.

They settled into a booth near the back ordered coffee and sandwiches then sat in silence as Penelope worked her magic on the computer. "I've got it," she announced as she flipped the computer around to face Dave.

He opened the file and scrolled through the photos as the waitress brought their coffee.

"Well?" Penelope asked hesitantly.

He peered at her over the computer screen. "There are a lot of pictures here."

"Of?" she pressed.

"The victims," he replied quietly. "It looks like all of them except Sylvia Mathers. And a few of the shots have him in them."

"Who is it?" She asked as she moved to look at the screen.

Dave laid his hand on her arm and shook his head. "You don't want to see this, Kitten. Trust me."

"Ok, but who is the killer?"

"It's exactly who I thought it would be," he replied cryptically.

"You're not going to tell me," she said as the waitress brought their sandwiches.

"Not here," he said as he shook his head again. He closed the screen and set the computer aside before reaching for his sandwich and taking a bite.

"I don't know how you can eat," she said as she watched him. Her own sandwich lay on the plate at her elbow. "That man is dead and you're munching like nothing happened."

He finished chewing and swallowed. "If I stopped eating every time someone died during a case I was working on I would never eat again."

"You have a point," she replied. "But doesn't it make you sad?"

"Sweetheart, I have to put it out of my mind. I know that is hard but if I didn't do that I probably would have killed myself a long time ago," he stated firmly. He dropped his hand on hers again and softly caressed her skin. "It's not easy. And I know it is not something you want to do, however, it helps to think about the lives we're saving rather than the lives we lost. Okay?"

She stared at their hands for a moment then looked up at his face. "If I promise to think about the lives we're saving can we talk about us now?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. He was about to answer her when his phone rang. He put down his sandwich and pulled the phone out of his pocket.

"It's Hotch," he announced. "Should I answer it?"

"How did he get this number?" she asked.

Dave shrugged and flipped the phone open. "Rossi."

"Don't hang up," Hotch pleaded.

"I knew it was you when I answered the phone, why would I hang up?"

"I have no answer for that but thanks for talking to me," Hotch replied. "Are you and Garcia okay?"

Dave peered at the blond sitting across from him. She looked tired, scared and happy. His hand still rested on hers his skin tingled where it touched hers and he realized that even in this horrible situation he was happy too.

"Physically yes, emotionally - we're holding it together."

"Dave, you need to meet up with us," Hotch stated firmly. "You're in a lot of danger."

"I kind of figured that out the first time someone started shooting at me," Dave replied snarkily. He glanced around the room to make certain no one was listening to his conversation. The closest person other than Penelope was two booths away and chatting happily with the waitress.

"The sniper's dead," Hotch said flatly. "Morgan shot him. Turns out the guy was a retired police officer."

"Seriously," Dave asked. He glanced worriedly at Penelope and shifted in his seat. His hand tightened over Penelope's. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive."

Dave released a large breath of air as he squeezed Penelope's hand again. She laid her other hand on top of his as she tried to listen in on his conversation. "Where are you?"

"At the cabin. Where are you?"

"In town," Dave replied succinctly. The town wasn't a major metropolis where they could get lost in the hustle and bustle of everyday life but it also wasn't so small that they would be tripping over Hotch and the rest of the crew - unless they weren't careful. And Dave was being careful.

"Not going to tell me where?" Hotch pressed.

"Nope." Dave shook his head even though he knew the younger man couldn't see him.

"Why not?" Hotch questioned.

"Because I'm not ready to meet up with you guys," Dave answered truthfully. "We'll do that in DC."

"Dave I'm at the cabin, if you're in town there is no way I could get to you before you moved on," Hotch reasoned. "What's wrong with telling me where you are?"

"Because Reid's still at the police station and he could get here pretty fast."

Hotch laughed. "You're scared of getting caught by Reid?"

Dave smiled into the phone. "The kid has enough confidence issues I don't want to bring him down more by kicking his ass."

Hotch snorted. "That would be defeating to be beat up by the geriatric division."

"Hey! I could kick your ass if I wanted too," Dave defended. He was partially distracted by Penelope's hand on his as she started absently rubbing his wrist with her finger tips.

"Dream on," Hotch replied. He then changed directions. "So is this the crime scene?"

"It's a crime scene just not for Sylvia Mathers."

"This is where the serial killer was working," Hotch stated knowingly. "But he didn't kill Sylvia here? Are you sure?"

"He didn't kill Sylvia at all," Dave replied. He looked up at Penelope after she squeezed his hand. She was looking at him questioningly. "You really want to help me?"

"You know we do," Hotch retorted.

"Process that cabin," Dave said quietly. "And we're going to send you a camera that I found there, I need it dusted for prints."

"You know that camera won't be admissible in court," Hotch reminded him.

"If I'm right about the owner we won't be going to court," Dave replied.

"You need the film developed too?" Hotch asked.

"It's a digital camera we have the pictures already," Dave stated.

"You want me to email them to him?" Penelope whispered.

Dave shook his head.

"Are you going to send me a copy of the pictures?" Hotch asked.

"The stick thingy will be in the camera," Dave replied.

Penelope laughed. She rubbed his hand again as he frowned at her.

"Stick thingy?" Hotch questioned.

"Memory card," Penelope supplied helpfully. Dave smiled at her and repeated what she said to Hotch.

"Okay. Anything else you would like us to do?" Hotch asked.

"Go home," Dave stated firmly.

"Not happening without you buddy."

"Ask about Carlton," Penelope reminded Dave.

He nodded. "How's Detective Carlton?"

"He'll be ok. Dave I'm really worried about you two," Hotch said into the phone. "You've been lucky twice and I don't know how long that is going to last."

"You worry about Strauss and let me worry about us," Dave told him. "I'm surprised she didn't come here with you."

"I'm sure she wanted to but I don't think the wilds of New Hampshire are her thing."

Dave chuckled. "No she definitely prefers the city life. Thanks for the call."

"Dave," Hotch said pleadingly as Dave snapped the phone shut. He motioned for the waitress to come over and asked for to-go boxes for their unfinished sandwiches.

"What did he say?" Penelope asked.

He quietly filled her in on the conversation as they boxed up their lunch. Dave paid the waitress leaving a generous tip before they went out to the car.

"Now what?" Penelope asked when they settled into the car.

Dave breathed deeply and looked at her. "I need to talk to Congressman Mathers."

"He's in DC," she reminded him.

"Yes, I know. Can you get me on a flight today?"

"Maybe," she drawled. "And you meant to say get us on a flight, right?"

He reached over and grabbed her hand. "I need you to run interference with the team. If they find out I'm on a plane to DC they can get there before me and shut me down."

She pulled her hand out of his grip. "I'm going with you," she pouted as she crossed her arms. "Or you'll have to find your own way there."

"Kitten," he began wearily.

"No! I'm your partner you said so yourself. And we don't leave our partners behind," she argued.

"Partners also take care of each other," he said patiently.

"My bullshit meter is going off," she replied leveling her gaze at him. "I can run interference and still go with you. And you know it."

He sighed. "You can get us both on a plane without raising the alarm?"

She grinned at him. "Absolutely."

He narrowed his gaze at her. "What do you have planned?"

"We take a flight that doesn't require passenger names."

"What flight would that be?" he asked suspiciously.

"A private jet," she replied triumphantly.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you suggesting we steal the BAU jet?"

"Not steal," she giggled. "Commandeer. The pilots have no idea who comes and goes on that thing. And they are not privy to the fact that you and I are on the run, all they know is that we are with the FBI and we want to go home."

Dave stared at her for a moment. "Hotch is going to kill us," he murmured. "And if he figures it out before we get off the plane in DC, he can have the jet turn around or have Strauss waiting at the airport."

"Let me deal with that, Sweetness. You worry about catching the bad guys."

"Done," he stated as he maneuvered the vehicle out of the parking lot and headed for the airfield. "You know I trust you with my life, right?"


	9. Back to the Beginning

Dave pulled the car into the parking lot at the airport and shut off the engine. Penelope gathered up her things, placing her hand on the door handle just as Dave reached over and touched her arm staying her movements. She turned her head to look at him.

"What's the matter?" she asked as she saw him peering at the plane on the tarmac.

"I think we have company," he said softly.

She looked out the front window and squinted at the plane. "It looks pretty quiet to me."

"Too quiet," he frowned. She waited for him to continue. He sat silently for several minutes just looking at the plane. Finally he turned to her when she was about to break the silence. "Penelope, I just want you to know that I care about you."

"I care about you too," she whispered.

"This time with you has definitely been eye-opening for me," he told her as he gently grasped her arm and pulled her hand to his lips. He placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. "I'd like to continue seeing you when all of this is over."

"Oh, okay." She nodded. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips.

"You sure?" he asked.

She smiled at him raising her hand to his face to caress his bearded chin. "Absolutely certain," she replied.

"We should get going," he said as he moved closer to her. She giggled as his mouth covered hers. They kissed for several minutes.

"We should get going," he said again.

"You said that already," she told him.

"Did I?" he frowned and smirked at the same time. "Let's go."

They opened their respective doors at the same time and climbed out of the car. Dave grabbed their bags from the trunk of the car and carried them to the plane. They entered the plane placing their bags in the cargo bins by the door then Dave closed and locked the hatchway. Dave stepped through the curtain to the main cabin when a male voice stopped him.

"I thought you were never going to get on the plane," Hotch chided.

Dave looked over the group occupying the plush seats in the cabin. He cursed himself for not following his intuition.

"What were you guys doing in the car?" Emily asked.

"You don't want to know," Dave stated. He felt the plane moving under his feet. He shook his head. "Where are we going?"

"I thought you wanted to go back to DC," Hotch stated quietly as he looked Dave directly in the eye.

"How did you know?" Penelope asked as she stepped out from behind Dave.

Hotch smirked. "That's for me to know and you to wonder about."

"The pilot told you," Dave said blandly. He looked at Penelope and frowned.

"It's not my fault," she whispered defensively.

"I know Kitten," he said softly reaching for her hand.

"You guys should sit down," Hotch suggested. "We're about to take off."

Dave sat down on the couch pulling Penelope down beside him as the plane began to gain speed. Penelope leaned closer to him putting her head on his shoulder.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked blinking back a tear.

Dave put his arm around her shoulders pulling her tightly against him. "Of course not."

"What are we going to do now?" she asked.

"I'll let you know," he smiled as he dropped a kiss on her mouth.

"So Dave," Hotch said interrupting them. "Why are we going back to DC already?"

Dave turned his attention back to the team who were watching him and Penelope with open interest. "I need to talk to the Congressman."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Hotch questioned.

Dave shrugged. "Maybe I'll just knock on his front door."

"Not a good idea," Hotch stated shaking his head. "He has security at the house. They won't let you close to the door FBI agent or not."

"Then I'll have to draw him out," Dave replied. "I could call him and set up a meeting."

"Try to get him to meet somewhere where we can cover you," Derek suggested.

Dave shook his head. "I can't let you guys do that."

"You can't stop us," Hotch said forcefully. "Either we help you or I call Strauss and have her meet us at the airport then you won't be doing anything."

"You haven't called her?" Dave questioned.

"No," Hotch replied succinctly. "We've – what's the term - gone silent."

Dave raised an eyebrow at him. "She's going to be pissed."

Hotch shrugged. "She's already pissed at you. I'm hoping she forgets to be pissed at me too."

"Huh," Dave snorted. "Let me know how that works out for you."

Hotch smiled. "Why don't you catch us up on this case," he suggested.

Dave spent the rest of the flight telling the team what he had found and putting the pieces together as Penelope snuggled against him and fell asleep. The team watched them speculatively but no one questioned their new found closeness. By the time the plane landed they had formulated a plan.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dave pulled out his cell phone with one hand as he flipped open the case folder with the other. He quickly located the phone number he wanted and dialed. After three rings the phone was answered.

"Mathers' residence," a cultured male voice announced over the line.

"Congressman Mathers please," Dave stated shortly.

"I'm sorry sir the Congressman is asleep," the man replied.

"This is FBI agent David Rossi," he enunciated slowly. "Put the Congressman on the phone. Now!"

"One moment sir," the man said blandly. The line went quiet for a few moments before Dave heard a soft knock and muffled voices.

"Agent Rossi," another voice said sounding pissed. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I wanted to make certain I caught you before you went to work," Dave explained without remorse.

"What do you want?" the Congressman demanded.

"I want to meet with you," Dave stated.

There was a moments pause. "Wait a minute, aren't you the agent that wanted to talk about my daughter?"

"Yes I am."

Congressman Mathers swore. "I told you," he growled. "I'm not talking about Sylvia."

"That's fine," Dave said agreeably. "Let's talk about Brian then."

"You son of a bitch," Mathers growled. "Leave my children alone."

"Okay. How about we talk about that cabin on the back of your property? Or the seven women that were tortured and murdered there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mathers said quietly.

Dave closed the case folder and smiled smugly at the phone. "I think you do. So do you want to talk to me about this? Or should I let the press know about my findings?"

"You have nothing," Mathers whispered sharply.

"That's where you're wrong," Dave replied. "I have plenty; including pictures. You didn't think about the cabin did you when you were getting rid of the evidence? You forgot to check the cabin."

"What do you want?"

"I told you – I want to talk to you about Sylvia's murder," Dave told him.

"You'll leave Brian out of it if I meet with you?" the Congressman asked.

"You know I can't do that," Dave replied calmly.

The man cursed again. "Fine, I'll meet you in an hour. There's a park near my house called Mason District Park. I'll meet you in the west parking lot."

Dave checked his watch. "One hour," he repeated. "I'll see you then."

Dave snapped his phone closed and looked at the team. "Mason District Park in an hour."

"That's just outside of Annadale," Reid supplied. "South of Lakewood."

"Can we get there in an hour?" Hotch asked.

"Shouldn't be a problem this time of the morning," Morgan answered.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dave leaned against the front of the car and scanned the parking lot. Other than this vehicle the lot was empty. In the distance he could see Morgan hovering behind a tree while Hotch was peeking around the corner of the tennis clubhouse. Prentiss and Reid had been sent to watch the Congressman's house. And much to his dismay, Penelope was sitting in the front seat of the car. He had tried to get her to stay on the jet but she had pointed out that the congressman probably knew about her from the housekeeper and it would be more in line for her to be with him.

Dave finally relented when Hotch reminded him that time was running out and they needed to hit the road. Dave looked at Morgan and asked for the younger man's back up weapon which was handed over wordlessly. He then proceeded to press it into Garcia's hands. She had begun to protest but he told her if she was coming along she needed to be armed.

"You have to cover my back," he whispered softly.

"You know I hate guns," she reminded him.

He half-smiled at her. "I remember. Don't shoot me in the ass."

"Heaven forbid anything should damage that," she said coyly. Dave laughed at her as they got into Morgan's car.

And now he was standing alone waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. He straightened up as a car turned into the lot and headed towards him. The low black vehicle smoothly slid to a stop next to him. The passenger window rolled down and a loud bang filled the air. Dave dropped to the ground.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Penelope settled into the seat and tried to forget that she had a loaded gun on her lap. Once again she found herself staring out the window at the man who was occupying her thoughts more and more each day. She was happy to be home and yet sad that she wouldn't be spending as much time with him.

She watched him shift to his feet as a car pulled into the lot from the street. Her trembling hand clenched the handle of the gun on her lap a little tighter. She licked her suddenly dry lips as she watched the vehicle roll to a stop about ten feet away. Her heart beat faster as the side window rolled down. She jumped in her seat as a loud bang filled the air. Horror filled her heart as Dave dropped to the ground in front of the car.

She threw her door open and scrambled out of the car. Another shot shattered the car window. She screamed and fell to the ground. In the distance she could hear Morgan yelling for her to stay on the ground. Tires screeched against pavement.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Morgan silently pulled up his pant leg and pulled out his back-up revolver. He handed it to Dave then raised an eyebrow as the older man gave the gun to Penelope. 'What the hell?' he thought silently. Everyone on the team knew that Garcia hated weapons of any sort for any reason, why would Dave force her to carry one now?

He and Hotch drove together to the meeting place and parked their vehicle behind the tennis clubhouse. Morgan ran across the parking lot to a copse of trees and made himself comfortable as they all waited for the Congressman to arrive. He could see Dave leaning against the hood of his car and Penelope was sitting inside. Not for the first time during the past few hours he wondered about their relationship.

It had taken all of his willpower not to punch the older profiler in the face when he saw the man kissing on his Baby Girl. And then Penelope had snuggled against Dave and fallen asleep. She looked so happy and relaxed that Morgan had found himself smiling and wishing her luck.

In the distance a vehicle turned off the road into the parking lot. Morgan pulled out his weapon and braced himself for action. This was supposed to be a simple meet and greet and yet Morgan's senses were on high alert. He watched the car pull up next to Dave and stop.

The first shot propelled him to his feet. He was half way across the parking lot when the second shot was fired and he saw Garcia tumble to the ground glass flying around her head. He yelled for her to stay on the ground. The vehicle circled around the damaged car and stopped between himself and Penelope. He could see the driver exit the car and approach Penelope then another shot was fired.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hotch took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. He rested his shoulder on the building as he peered around the corner. He was tired and wanted this damn case to be over with soon. He took another breath and groaned. The paperwork was going to kill him if he managed to keep his job. Strauss was going to be on the warpath when she found out what he had approved as far as the team's activities.

His only savings grace would be Dave. It wasn't fair to put so much of his life in another's hands but he knew he would be safe with Dave. The older man had been his friend since the first day he had joined the bureau and Dave had made it his life's mission to look after Aaron. Hotch trusted Dave. He only wished his friend trusted him as well.

He pulled his thoughts together as a vehicle pulled into the parking lot and stopped adjacent to Dave's vehicle. He heard the gunshot and watched as his friend fell to the ground. He started towards the lot then turned and ran back to his SUV. Hopping into the driver's seat he heard another shot as he started the engine. He gunned the accelerator and slid the vehicle around the building and into the lot. He closed the distance to the scene in a heartbeat.

Jumping out of the SUV he pulled out his gun and approached the vehicles. He glanced at Dave who was scrambling to his feet, gun in hand as blood dripped down his left arm. Together they moved to the passenger side of the vehicle where Penelope and the Congressman lay on the ground.

"Garcia?" Hotch asked carefully.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sylvia Mathers was a typical girl growing up in a not so typical family. Her father was a United States Congressman who wanted the perfect family, her Mother was a self-absorbed, drama queen that thought of her only daughter as "competition" and adored her only son to the point of obsession, and her brother was a serial killer. Sylvia had stumbled upon the information about her brother quite by accident.

Sylvia ran across the street and hopped onto the sidewalk nearly bumping into a passing stranger. She smiled apologetically before heading towards the library. As she walked past the local diner she glanced inside and was surprised to see her brother Brian there eating with a woman. She smiled to herself, happy that her brother seemed to be getting a life, and continued on her way.

Three days later, Sylvia was watching television in the den as she finished on her school work, when a news report broke into the show. The anchorman began talking about a missing woman whose body had been found in a nearby park. She glanced up at the screen and gasped as the woman's picture appeared. She knew that face; it was the woman whom had been with her brother in the diner.

She stared at the television her mind whirling with the events of the past couple of days. Brian had come home late that first night and left early the next morning. He often was gone for days at a time preferring to spend his time hanging out at their Grandfather's old hunting cabin rather than be smothered by their Mother. She didn't blame him. The first chance she got she was leaving the old hag too. She would miss seeing her Father but if she was lucky she would get a job in Washington DC and see him there.

She focused on the news report taking in the fact that this woman was one of many whom had been found in the same park. A chill ran through her as a helicopter showed an overhead view of the park pointing out the location of the bodies. In the upper part of the screen, Sylvia could see the top of the hunting cabin. Her mind raced as images splashed through her brain.

A package for her brother that he had secreted to his room the thrown out contents later revealed that the package had contained a hunting knife, a book her brother was reading about knot tying, and a bloody shirt she had found in the trash can. Alone these items seemed innocuous enough but together… she didn't want to believe that her brother might be a killer.

She sat quietly through dinner, picking at her food and watching her brother for signs that he was a homicidal maniac. Glancing at her Mother, she thought, now that woman could be a murderer. She took a deep breath as she pondered her next move.

After dinner, Brian escaped from the house as Sylvia got a phone call from her boyfriend who announced he would be over shortly to pick her up. She ran upstairs to change and was just finishing up when the housekeeper Henri knocked on her door and said that her parents wanted to see her before she left. She grabbed her things and headed downstairs.

"What's up," Sylvia asked as she sauntered into the front room. Her Mother was seated on the couch looking bored and her Father was sitting in his favorite chair smiling at her.

"Sit," he commanded as waved his hand.

She perched herself on the arm of the couch. "E.T. is coming to get me," she told him. "I shouldn't be out late."

The Congressman frowned at her. "I don't like that boy."

"He's not a boy," she replied dourly.

"He's a hooligan," her Mother cut in.

"You just don't know him," Sylvia retorted her voice laced with anger.

"Is he the reason you've been so quiet this evening?" her father asked.

"What?" she asked.

"You haven't been your normal self," he pointed out. "Is something wrong?"

She stared at her Father for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. Her Father was heading back to DC in a few days, now may be the best time to air her concerns. She glanced at her Mother who looked like she was falling asleep.

"I'm worried about Brian," she said finally. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her Mother's head pop up.

"What about him?" her Father asked.

"He spends a lot of time at the cabin," she breathed. "But I don't think he's alone."

"How dare you!" her Mother shrieked.

"Now Chloe," her Father said soothingly. "Lets just listened to what she has to say. Who do you think he is out there with?"

"Girls," she blurted.

Her Mother huffed. Her Father smiled. "He is a man and is entitled to some privacy with his girlfriends."

"Brian does not have girlfriends," Chloe stated sharply. "He is a good boy, unlike our tramp of a…"

"Enough!" her Father yelled. He glared at his wife. "Both of our children are good. You remember that!"

The room was silent for a minute before her Father turned back to her and smiled encouragingly. "Is that all that's on your mind?"

She took a deep breath before continuing. "I saw Brian at the diner in town with a girl the other day," she paused. "Today the news announced that she had been murdered."

"You think that Brian did this?" her Father asked quietly.

Nervously, she nodded.

"That's ridiculous," her Mother spat vehemently. She rose to her feet and marched in front of Sylvia. "You little whore! You're just jealous of your brother. You will never be as good as he is."

"I hope not," she laughed. "I am not and never will be a murdering little son of a bitch!"

The blow on her face landed unexpectedly rocking her to the side. She covered her cheek with her hand and moved swiftly away from her Mother. The Congressman leapt from his chair and grabbed his wife as she started for her daughter again. Just then a car horn honked outside.

"Go," the Congressman said firmly. "We'll talk more later."

Cheek burning and eyes brimming with tears Sylvia made her way to the front door and rushed out to her boyfriend's car.


	10. The End of the Beginning

Ignoring the blood and the pain in his left arm Dave rushed to Penelope's side and reached out for her. She screamed and swung the gun at him which he deftly reflected.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded.

She stared at him through tear filled eyes. "You're alive?"

He nodded but still frowned at her. "Answer me damn it! Are you hurt?"

"No," she replied shaking her head. She sat up and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair as relief poured through his bones. In just a short period of time she had come to mean more to him than just a colleague or friend and he wasn't letting her go.

He helped her to her feet and moved them away from the Congressman and the potential for more danger.

"Is it over?" Penelope asked through her tears.

"Yes, it is, Kitten," he assured her. He pulled back and lifted her face with a gentle hand. Smiling at her, he swiped the tears away before lowering his head and kissing her. He swallowed her sigh as she settled into his embrace and kissed him back.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hotch breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that Penelope was alright but kept his weapon trained on the man lying a few feet away. Morgan ran up to the scene and kicked the man's gun away. The man was groaning in pain and holding both hands over the bleeding wound in his abdomen.

"You shot a United States Congressman," he groaned. "You're going to jail for the rest of your life!"

"And you shot a Federal Agent," Hotch stated coldly.

"It was self defense," the Congressman said defensively.

Both Hotch and Morgan chuckled. "You fired first Agent Rossi didn't even have his gun drawn," Hotch argued. "We were watching you."

"You were?" the Congressman asked lamely as he lay on the ground.

Hotch shook his head and frowned. "Keep an eye on him Morgan. I'll call for EMS."

The younger agent nodded and kept his gun pointed at the man. "You have a lot of explaining to do," Morgan said dryly.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dave leaned against the front of the car and scanned the parking lot as a paramedic bandaged his arm. The once empty parking lot was now filled with fire trucks, ambulances, police cars and black SUV's. The Congressman had been strapped to a litter and carted off to the hospital. True to her word Garcia was unhurt save for a few bumps and bruises. She was standing with the team about fifty feet away.

The paramedic finished tending to Dave's wound, told him to go to the doctors then cleaned up his trash and walked away. Pulling his shirt back on, Dave started to walk over to the team when he caught sight of a blonde headed she-devil slithering in his direction. Strauss was on-site and she was pissed.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" she shrieked when she spotted him. "You shot a United States Congressman! Do you want to go to jail besides losing your job?"

He sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. He was not looking forward to dealing with her over the top theatrics. He could see Penelope's concerned face as the entire team turned to watch the show.

"He shot me first," Dave pointed out not correcting her on the fact that he didn't shoot the Congressman.

"I don't care if he pissed in your Wheaties! This is the last time you will ever carry the badge of the FBI," she screamed angrily. "The BAU is finished as well. You did a great job of ensuring that none of your friends will have jobs either."

"Leave them alone," Dave replied menacingly.

"Oh I do not think so," she retorted. "They did not follow the orders of their direct supervisor which resulted in the shooting of a Congressman. There will be hell to pay and it shall be paid in blood!"

At this point the team converged on them.

"Director Strauss," Hotch began. "Let me explain."

"It's all my fault," Penelope wailed.

"Let me handle this," Dave told them.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sylvia climbed into the front seat of the car and slammed the door. Her boyfriend put the car in gear and squealed the tires as he drove out onto the street. He drove them back to his house where they spent the evening watching television. He attempted several times to get her to talk about the handprint on her cheek. But she stubbornly refused to release any information about what had transpired at her house. She fell asleep lying on the couch with her head on his lap dreaming of faceless women lying at the bottom of a cliff.

She awoke hours later sweating and trembling from a dream wherein she was being chased by a faceless attacker through the woods. She was running up a hill and tripped over what she thought was a fallen tree limb but had turned out to be the leg of a dead woman. She sat up on the couch; her boyfriend put an arm around her shoulders and asked if she was okay. She nodded and pulled out of his embrace. After stumbling to the bathroom she washed her face and brushed her hair then returned to the living room.

"What's going on?" E.T. asked somberly. "You were upset when I picked you up and now you've been having nightmares."

"It's nothing," she assured him with a shake of her head. "Family problems, you know?"

"I keep telling you," he growled. "You can move in here. I'll take care of you."

She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I know. But I want to finish school first and if Daddy's paying I have to stay at the house."

He let out a deep breath. "Speaking of your Daddy, if we want to keep him happy I better get you home."

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. She gave him a quick kiss before they headed out to the car.

They pulled into the driveway and Sylvia leaned over for one last kiss before jumping out of the car. She had barely reached the front door as she heard E.T. squealing out of the driveway.

'Yeah, that will make Daddy happy,' she thought. She unlocked the front door and when inside. The house was quiet as she suspected it would be. She started to head up the stairs when her Mother's voice called to her from the front room.

"This should be interesting," she muttered as she trudged into the room. The lights were off as she entered the room and she could not see anything. "Mother?"

She heard movement behind her and started to turn around. Something dark and thin fell over her head suddenly there was a sharp pain at her neck. She reached up and clawed at her neck; something rubbery was pressed against her throat cutting off her air. She twisted and struggled knocking into a table causing it to crash to the floor. The pressure on her neck wouldn't let up.

"I won't let you do it," a voice whispered in her ear. "You're not taking my boy away from me you little bitch."

Her last thought before darkness invaded her mind was 'How did my Mother get so strong?'

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Handle this!" Strauss screamed on the verge on histrionics. "You can't handle a simple order to mind your own business."

"That's because he had higher orders," another voice cut in. They all turned around to see Dave's friend Jack standing there.

"Director Fickler," Strauss crowed. "This is why I have been pushing for the disbandment of the BAU. David Rossi and his band of merry men think they are…"

"Can it, Strauss," the Director ordered. She closed her mouth and stared at him.

"Jack," Dave said respectfully as he reached out his right hand.

"David," Jack replied. He took Dave's hand in his own and shook it. "Come talk to me."

Dave and Jack walked away from Strauss and the team to a quieter area of the parking lot.

"Jesus Dave," Jack said quietly.

"I know," Dave replied. "I tried to keep it to myself but everything just kind of exploded. I really tried to keep the team out of it."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, I'll be having a chat with Strauss about that. I told her not to send the team after you and she did it anyways. So I guess she can't hold the "not following orders" over you."

Dave smiled. "What's going to happen to the team?"

"You got your man, right?"

"Not yet," Dave replied solemnly.

"What do you mean?" Jack frowned.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"What's going on down here?" Owen asked as he flipped on the light to the front room. He stared in horror as he saw his daughter lying on the floor and his wife standing over her holding a phone cord in her hand. "Chloe, what did you do?"

His wife turned slowly and looked at him. "I had to protect Brian," she said softly.

"By killing Sylvia!" he yelled. He rushed to his daughter's side pushing Chloe out of the way. He placed his hand on Sylvia's abdomen unsure of what to do. He glared up at his wife. "I told you I was going to take care of the situation."

"Ha!" She screamed. "You want to send Brian away. I can't let you do that. I won't let you do that."

"If Brian really is killing those girls then we need to get him some help," Owen explained quietly. "Now you have ruined everything."

"You're just mad because your perfect little girl is gone," Chloe said bitterly.

Owen breathed in a deep breath and tried to remain calm. He could see his entire life crashing around him. His daughter was gone, his son was about to be gone and his wife apparently needed help as well. His mind shifted into rescue mode, he needed to do something to save the rest of his life. If his family was gone it would do him no good to lose his job as well.

"I'm going to bed," Chloe announced as she tossed the phone cord onto Sylvia's limp body.

Owen stared at it. By all rights, he should call the police but that would just tear everything down at once. The police would want to know why Chloe had killed their daughter and that would lead into an investigation into Brian. If he did this right, he could control how the events played out.

After Sylvia had left with her boyfriend, Owen had researched the murders that Sylvia had referred too. It had not taken him long to come to the same conclusion that Sylvia had; it was a strong possibility that Brian was responsible for the deaths of those women. He sighed knowing he had to do something to protect the public as well as his family.

He stared at the face of his youngest child and choked back a sob. She wasn't perfect, but she had been pretty damn close. She deserved better than what was about to happen but now he needed to protect the living members of his family. He picked her up and carried her lifeless body out the back door and put her on the back seat of his car. He covered her with a blanket before running back into the house to change.

Fifteen minutes later, the Congressman pulled his car into the park located down the road from his house. He wasn't certain where to place her body, so he pulled into the first lot and parked next to the curb. Silently he sat and stared out the window for a few minutes at the playground in front of him.

Sylvia had always loved coming to the park when she was little. She would spend hours playing on the swings, climbing the monkey bars, and sliding down the multi-leveled slides. In the summer time, the lake would be open for swimming, Sylvia and her high school friends would lie on the grass sunning themselves between dips in the cool water.

Owen swiped at the tears running down his cheeks, she had so much life yet to be lived, this whole situation was ridiculous. He carried her across the grass, past the play area and into the wooded area where she could be seen from the picnic area. Gently he laid her on the ground and half-covered her body with leaves and twigs. He only hoped it wouldn't take too long for her to be found.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Holy crap," Jack swore softly. "This whole family is fucked up."

Dave chuckled and nodded. "They really help put your own life in perspective, don't they?"

"No kidding," Jack replied as he slowly shook his head. "So, Mom killed Sylvia because Sylvia was going to expose her brother as a monster. Is that right?"

"Not only that, but Mom had an unnatural affection for her son," Dave informed his friend.

Jack squinted at him. "What does that mean?"

"From what I could gather, Owen Mathers was not the father of Brian. I think Chloe favored Brian because he reminded her of the man she could never have."

"Who was his Father?" Jack questioned.

Dave shrugged. "I never got that far. Does it matter?"

Jack shook his head. "Not anymore. So what happened to Brian?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Owen drove slowly out of the park; he drove past the driveway to his house he continued slowly up the road looking for the entrance to the cabin. Once he spotted the entryway he turned into the trees and approached the cabin. There was a light on inside. As he pulled to a stop Brian stepped out on the porch and approached the car.

"What are you doing here?" Brian asked sounding surprised.

"There's been an accident," Owen sighed. "Sylvia is dead."

Brian frowned. "What kind of accident? Did she and that loser boyfriend have a car accident? Is she okay?"

Owen shook his head and swiped at the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. "She's dead. Your Mom…"

"What? What do you mean she's dead? What happened," Brian demanded.

Owen opened the door to his car and got out. He leaned against the door after closing it and peered at his son. "What are you doing out here?"

Brian shrugged. "Just hanging out."

"By yourself?" Owen pressed.

"Yeah," Brian responded balefully.

Owen took a deep breath and really looked at Brian. "You're not here by yourself all the time though, are you?"

Brian shrugged.

"You need to tell me what you've been doing up here Brian. Things are about to get really complicated and I need to know the truth," Owen stated. "Your Mom killed Sylvia."

"You're lying," Brian snarled.

"I wish I was," Owen said sadly.

"What the hell?"

"Sylvia thought that you were doing something illegal up here, she told your Mom and I about it," Owen explained. "She told us about the dead girls."

Brain stared at the ground and said nothing.

"Did you kill those girls Brian?" Owen asked in a whisper. "I need to know."

Brian looked up at him. "What did Momma do?"

"She strangled your sister. Wrapped a phone cord around her neck and held it tight until she was dead."

Brian began crying tears flowed out of his eyes and down his cheeks. "She shouldn't have done that."

"No, she shouldn't have," Owen agreed. "But she thought she was protecting you."

Brian swiped at the wetness on his face. "I can't help myself," he said in a strangled whisper. "I see these women and something inside of me just takes over. I don't know why."

Owen reached out and pulled his son in his arms. "I'm going to help you," he promised. "You have to trust me and do what I say."

"I will," Brian nodded as he settled in his Father's arms.

"Get in the car," Owen ordered gently. "We have to go home and talk to your Mother."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"After that they hashed out the entire story between the three of them," Dave explained. "Brian agreed to go to the hospital and get some help though I think the whole situation was too much for Chloe to handle. I get the idea that she should have been placed in an institution a long time ago."

"Well, she'll be going there now," Jack stated.

They stood in an amiable silence for several minutes.

"I bet you weren't expecting this when you asked for my help," Dave said with a soft chuckle.

Jack smiled sadly. "I've learned over the years to not have expectations."

"If there is any fallout, I'll take the blame," Dave announced.

Jack shook his head. "No. I promised that I would protect you and I am keeping that promise. That includes your team as well."

Dave dropped his head and thought for a minute. "Thanks," he said at last. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

Jack grinned. "You can ask."

"It's about the fraternization policy," Dave began as they walked back to where the team was waiting.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Aaron stood back from the group watching them and the pair that stood talking in the distance. Sometimes he forgot that Dave knew people of influence, people who had been in the business a long time. He sighed as he figured out why Dave had gone off on this trip through the past.

Strauss was also watching the pair. Her arms were folded across her chest, foot tapping against the asphalt as she waited for her next chance to strike. Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose trying to ward off the headache that was building. Sure as the sun was going to rise, Strauss was going to be all over his ass for the rest of his days at the bureau.

"You've really done it this time David," Strauss said vehemently. "I want your badge."

"Bite me," Dave chuckled. He walked past her and put his arms around Penelope pulling her close. Aaron silently wished that Dave would not aggravate the woman.

"Director Strauss," Jack cut in. "You and I will be talking tomorrow."

"Sir," Strauss began. "Agent Rossi has made the whole FBI a laughing stock with this fiasco!"

"Agent Rossi was following orders," Jack growled. He glared at her. "It is nice to know at least one of my people knows how to do that."

"What are you saying?" she asked timidly as she drew back a step.

"You will find that out tomorrow," he said shortly. He turned to Dave and held out his hand. Dave took it and they shook hands. "Thank you for all your work on this case. And good luck with your new girlfriend."

Dave grinned. "Thank you Director. You know I am always at your service."

Jack smiled and turned to Strauss. "Come on Erin, it's late and you and I have an early meeting."

Hotch watched as Jack Fickler led a protesting Erin Strauss away from the team. He moved closer and joined group.

"What the hell just happened?" Morgan asked.

"David Rossi saved the day again," Hotch announced.

"Does this mean we're okay?" Spencer asked.

"We're going to be fine," Dave stated assuring the entire group.

"What about us?" Penelope asked quietly.

Dave looked down at her and smiled. "Us? We're better than fine. Come on, beautiful you and I have a lot to talk about."

"Let's all go home," Hotch suggested.

They climbed into the black SUV's and headed for home.


End file.
